


Crush It

by SavvyLark



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Confused Katniss, F/M, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-06-11 17:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15320346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavvyLark/pseuds/SavvyLark
Summary: A Summer College AU where Katniss has a crush on Rye, Peeta’s brother. She gets to know Peeta and starts hanging out with him/dating him to make Rye jealous. Based on the prompt: “You’re my crush’s sibling and I started dating you to piss off my crush and make them jealous enough to confess feelings for me, except you’re actually really sweet and awesome and I think I might like you better, and I don’t know what to do now that my plan seems to have worked.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katnissdoesnotfollowback (lost_on_cloud_9)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_on_cloud_9/gifts).



> This is every summer soundtrack and beach party your free spirit craves.  
> thank you @Katnissdoesnotfollowback, @lynemloveseverlark, @lovely-tothe-bone, @alliswell21, and Ra3lynn3 for you encouragement, thoughts, help and beta skills along the way.

My heart is pounding out of my chest. This isn't how it was supposed to go. 

It wasn't supposed to feel like this. Buried in his strong arms as he pulls her closer. We watch the sun slowly lower and set the field ablaze in deep oranges and reds. He smells so good, a fresh and sweet smell mixed with an herbal and musky manly scent that bring to mind feelings of strength and safety. 

I look up to gaze into his deep blue eyes. So unlike his brother's, uniquely dark with a pointillism of green on the center.  
Here I am spouting painting techniques I've learned, even in my inner dialogue he's made such an impression. 

Purely acting on an urge to express my feelings in this moment, I stretch my neck forward to capture his perfect plush lips. 

Kisses aren't supposed to be this sweet yet awaken my whole body at the same time, but of course, this is what Peeta Mellark does to me. With his kindness, his laugh, the twinkle in his eyes, his very nature. 

I'm taken under a tidal wave of emotions by this man with strong arms and ocean blue eyes. I'm in too deep and I don't think I want to resurface. 

XXXXX

I take another sip of my beer and stare down my friend and crush, Rye Mellark. His icy blue eyes twinkle. He gives me a playful wink and continues ribbing my best friend Gale over some team rivalry. 

I try not to blush but I can't stop thinking about the way Rye looks at me.

Like I'm the only girl in the room. 

But he won't admit it to anyone. 

We've been playing this game, and doing this dance for too long. I like him, he likes me. We make each other laugh until our sides hurt.

For being a terrible flirt, regardless of all the hints I've given, Rye won't make a move. 

I'm legitimately bad at flirting. I replay in my mind a few things Madge has taught me. Touch your hair, bite your lip, make eye contact, then look away. Touch his shoulder, laugh when he's trying to be funny, whisper in his ear. If he sees that you're interested and less guarded it might help. 

I smooth down my more feminine attire, take a deep breath and make a move.

“Hey stranger.” I greet Rye, and attempt to touch him playfully but I end up petting his forearm, pull my hand away and pretend that wasn't weird. 

Make conversation, I tell myself. 

I stumble over my words and end up saying something stupid about how pale he is and how tan he gets in the summer. 

Gale looks at me with amusement at how terribly this is going. 

 

“Are you okay?” Is there something in your hair? Here, I can help you.” Rye asks as he reaches for where I am continually rubbing my hand on my hair. Clearly not coming off very flirty. 

I don't know what to think when I realize probably a third of the people here at Gale’s party are aware of my intentions. It's even more embarrassing that I'm failing.

I try biting my lip and give a sweet look, but I'm already so embarrassed. I look away and take a sip of my beer just as Rye whispers in my ear, “You look really pretty Katniss.”

I suck in a breath and inhale my drink. Sputtering and coughing, which draws everyone's concern.

Great, now I have everyone's attention. 

Rye pats me on the back in an attempt to help, but I retreat to the bathroom.

Two hours into the evening no progress has been made in my mission of getting Rye to admit he likes me as much as I like him.

I found Rye chatting up a busty blonde girl that I've seen around campus. I'm not one for competition. 

I stomp off into the kitchen for another drink. 

I find Peeta, Rye’s younger brother who I vaguely remember is in a few of my freshman requirement classes. We officially met a few years earlier at one of Rye or Gale’s parties.

Peeta and I haven't really talked… Well ever. He was always the golden-boy type and had plenty of attention from girls. While I, on the other hand, am a little darker and grittier and kind of a guy's girl.  
Not the sweet doe-eyed kind of girl golden boys want.

But Rye on the other hand…

“Hey! How's your night going?” I asked Rye’s brother. 

“Good. School year is over. I won a few rounds of beer pong. Are you happy to have the whole summer break ahead of you?” He asks. 

I bob my head and take another swig of beer. It's not easier coming home, just working a lot of hours and playing Taxi to my almost 16-year-old sister. But normal college kids are relieved so I play along. 

I nod and play with my hair as I rattle off a few summer plans, hiking, camping, the usual shenanigans with Rye and Gale while trying to stay out of trouble, biting my lip to hold in my laugh.

“And your birthday is coming up isn't it?” he asks.

“How did you--” I ask, but he cuts me off. 

“I decorate the cakes, you know?” He smirks.

We continue to talk in the kitchen long after we've refilled our drinks. Rye’s brother surprises me. He’s clever, funny and charming, I knew that. It's his self-deprecating humor, his shy smiles and the way he says my name that makes me more at ease.  
My cheeks hurt from laughing and I smack his arm playfully when he teases me. 

I didn't realize how lost in conversation I've been until Rye pops in, “There you are! Oh, Silver-eyes with my silver-tongue brother I see.” He tries to say in a playful tone, but it comes off a little jealous. 

I whisper in Peeta's ear “I think you're brother's jealous.”  
I smile as our eyes meet, his deep blue ones widen, try to hold in a laugh, but we've been laughing so much that it's just under the surface. 

Rye makes a competitive face at his brother, like a basketball player stealing the ball from a rival, and puts an almost possessive arm around me.

“We have a game to play, and I need my favorite partner.” Rye explains as he leads me away from his brother.

I smile back at Peeta and shrug my shoulders.

Peeta laughs and shakes his head back at me. 

Talking to Peeta made Rye jealous. 

That's when I formulate my plan: if I date Peeta, casually, so as not to hurt anyone, I can get Rye to admit his crush on me and act on his feelings. I have the entire summer break. If things go awry we’ll be back at college in the fall and can easily avoid each other and any awkwardness.  
Xxxx

I approach Peeta at the bakery, he's working up front and Rye's shift doesn't start until later. Not that I know my crush’s work schedule or anything, Rye just told me when he would be in. 

I order my birthday cake and suggest that Peeta comes to the party Gale is throwing for me on the beach Friday. It's May, so it's a little cold to go swimming, but perfect for a bonfire in the sand. 

I bite my lip in thought, then meet Peeta's blue eyes. “Um, maybe we could spend some time together?” I suggest, then look down and fiddle with my receipt.

When I look back up Peeta smirks. I think he's on to my plan. If anyone knows Rye is trying to hide his feelings for me it's his own brother. Peeta's not really one to be tied down to one particular girl, so I don't really feel like I would be toying with him if we keep things casual. I think he's up for a bit of fun this summer.

He gives me an amused look, “Sure.” 

We swap numbers and make plans to check out the new Marvel movie next week. 

“I don't think I've ever seen a superhero or action movie with a girl before!” Peeta tells me when I suggested Infinity War. 

“Well, you're not hanging out with the right girls, plenty of us like action.” I answer back with a tilt of my head and smile. 

“I guess not.” Peeta holds my gaze for a full 30 seconds, his eyes seem to dance. He shakes his head and laughs. 

“See you tomorrow at the beach?” I confirm, he has to be there for this to start out the way I'm hoping.

“I'll be there alright.” He nods and flashes that perfect smile that makes most girls weak in the knees. Not me. I mean maybe a little, but not really. 

It's just a family trait I tell myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Prim brings me the calming effect I needed. I squeeze her hand so tightly her knuckles turn white. 

“It's okay, take deep breaths, you can do this. Just remember, you're going to be Mrs. Mellark. Don't think of the people, just watch him. Everything will be fine.” Primrose says, releasing my hand. 

She looks me over, adjusting a few things on my lace, mermaid-style, ivory dress that Cinna brilliantly remade using my mother's wedding dress. 

Prim carries her bouquet just as Effie instructed, smiles at me and whispers “See you up there.” Then walks down the aisle and takes her place as my Maid of Honor. 

Gale loops his arm through mine. I nervously start bobbing up and down on the balls of my feet. 

“Everything will be fine, Catnip-niss.” He corrects himself as he sees me scowl. 

“How many of those people out there know I chose one brother over another? He's the best man, and even though things are mostly good between us, people talk.” I blurt out. 

Gale shakes his head grinning. “Don't overthink it. This is your day, besides Peeta and Rye are going to make a joke about it, no doubt, but not at your expense! Now let's go get you a husband?” He kisses my cheek and leads me down the aisle.

I lock eyes with the love of my life and everyone else fades away. Out of my peripheral, Gale takes his place up front, but I am absolutely lost in blue eyes that reach my very soul and dance with it. It feels as if I'm not walking but floating towards him. 

For a fleeting thought I remember there was a time I didn't want to get married and I was willing to throw this future away because of fear. 

If Rye only knew the kind of courage he forced upon me by ignoring my advances.

XXxX

After my birthday celebration on the beach I realize it's clearly starting to work, this plan of mine to get Rye to admit his feelings. Peeta and Rye jokingly fought over who was going to present my birthday cake, and it seemed like a game to see who could make me laugh the hardest.

I'm not one for believing wishes are granted, but I thought, “The odds are in my favor here,” so I wished that next year I wouldn't be single, hoping it would be my blue-eyed Mellark. 

Well, I guess there are two blue-eyed Mellarks, fate knows what I mean though, right? 

Rye gave me extra attention all evening, especially when Peeta was around. Peeta works into my plan so well. He's genuinely interesting, easy to talk to, and I find myself gravitating toward him naturally. It's really nice to have an ally. 

Katniss: Hey Rye, thanks again for the cake. I could have paid for it. 

Rye: You will never pay for your own birthday cake as long as I work there. You're one of my best friends. No arguments Everdeen! ;)

One of your best friends… right. 

Katniss: FINE. Thanks for coming tonight, and for dancing with me. 

Rye: Anytime 

Rye: Hey Kat? Are you going to a movie with my brother?

Katniss: yeah why?

Rye: JW

Katniss: Oh come on, I know you saw Infinity War without me! Had to find someone to go with! 

Rye: He has a silver tongue, be warned.

Katniss: Are you worried about me, Rye? 

Rye: Maybe I am 

Katniss: Good. Maybe you should be. What do you do with your own silver tongue? ;)

Rye: Maybe you'll find out. ;)

Katniss: Your move. You better not leave me in the dust for the next movie, Rye Mellark! 

I don't mention that I heard he might have seen another movie on a date with that busty blonde from college. The one that caught his attention instead of mine. Especially disheartening.

Rye: okay okay! 

Katniss: Night! 

Then as if he sensed being talked about, I get a call from Peeta. 

“Hey Peeta.” I answer.

“Thanks for inviting me, I had fun tonight.” His low deep voice warms something inside me. 

I find myself brought back to sand under my feet, a crackling fire beside me, the waves of the beach whispering. The music brings a rush of excitement and the euphoria of Peeta's warm breath on my neck when we danced in the light of the fire. I blush, and suddenly I feel nervous. 

“I'm--I’m glad you came.” I stammer, but clear my throat and recover. “The cake was insane, I can't believe you decorated that!” 

“Hey, I usually keep that on the down low, my brothers have enough fun with my less-than-masculine skills making flowery things.” Peeta grumbles.

“Well, next time they say something, tell them you impress girls with such skills!” I reassure him.

“Girls?” He repeats, incredulous. 

“You impressed me! Feel free to gloat.” I say.

I'm starting to wonder if I had the wrong idea about Peeta being a ladies man. 

Rye has told me Peeta has a silver tongue enough times. 

I heard all about the speeding ticket he talked himself out of, going 88 in 55 and his poor grandma in the hospital, he told the officer. 

How he had no retribution for a senior prank he and his buddies pulled. Gale and I graduated different years at a rival high school to Rye and Peeta's on the poorer side of town. Peeta's legend was heard by my senior class far and wide. “Breadboy” the kid who talked his way out of the bread and pigeon prank that lead to the high school being shut down for the day, due to health concerns. 

As the story goes, Peeta and his friends covered the main hallway in bread crumbs, no doubt left over from the bakery as their senior prank. They ‘somehow’ left the back door open and ‘had no idea’ birds would get in and didn't notice anything amiss when one if them went back to close the backdoor that they forgot. 

The rumors of a rooster crowing were especially suspicious, but never proven. 

It's a natural assumption that he would be just as smooth with girls. I mean, even describing Peeta as having a “silver tongue” insinuates salacious skills hidden behind that innocent somewhat shy smile. 

Yet, as I get to know Peeta I haven't seen him be especially smooth with women, in fact, if I compare the two brother's, Rye fits that description. 

“Well in that case, I'll make you something when we go to the movie!” Peeta says.

What ladies man brings a girl baked goods? 

“Woah, I'm salivating just thinking about it! Text me your address and I'll see you Thursday.” I tell Peeta. 

“You sure I can't pick you up?” He asks.

“Not a chance!” I insist. 

“See you then, Katniss!” Peeta says, and wish I could stop thinking about the tightness I get in my chest by the way he says my name. It's never sounded so beautiful. 

I actually was embarrassed to let Peeta pick me up for several reasons. 

I try to keep my mom and sister from any guys I'm possibly dating to avoid their attachment or their becoming invested at all. The guy gets the wrong idea with misguided attempts to impress my mom, or that this could get serious. I'm only 19 years old! Girls who want something serious that young are crazy. Why would I want the responsibility and berdon that comes with a serious relationship? Especially when it probably won't work out? 

I've dated a couple of emotionally unstable ass holes. I'm not insensitive for being sensible about what dating means and being practical with my heart. It's just responsible. 

I've been trying to get Rye to understand I want him for exactly how he is. Charming and fun and low key. I want to be with him. I know he wouldn't be super intense with deep feelings. He's kind of exactly what I'm looking for. I don't think I'll ever want something intense or ever want to get married. 

Gale says I'm not the kind of girl you can easily let go of, which is annoying and confusing. 

If I want something that I know isn't forever does that imply that I am I automatically leading someone on? 

I know my house is an indication of how rough things are at home and I hate pity. I don't need Peeta knowing enough to pity me. 

How much do I even want my crush’s brother who I might start dating to know about me?

Oh god, this is already getting too complicated for me. I already hate myself for this idea. 

XXXX 

Our movie night was a blast! We had to go kind of late because of my work schedule, but Peeta was cool about it. We both have an unusual preference for chocolate covered raisins, and we made a game of throwing popcorn in each other's mouth before the lights went down. The movie was exciting and thrilling as expected, but Peeta made it that much more fun with his numerous whispered antidotes and added dry humor. A few times our hands brushed, and I had to resist the urge to grasp his. 

He smuggled some apple fritters in a Tupperware under his jacket and almost captured my heart then and there. I stifled giggles at the harmless rule-breaking as I ate.

Instead of dropping him off right away, I decide we need a taco fix.  
I pull up at the drive-thru and raddle off our order.

<< Is this Katniss? >> The voice over the speaker asks. 

“NO!” I answer back, obstinately.

Peeta looks surprised and amused. 

<< This is definitely Katniss! >> The voice counters.

I mumble to Peeta “I don't come here that often.”

<< Yes she does, and she always orders the exact same things, around midnight. >> The voice over the speaker is making me look like an idiot. 

I cringe while the two men laugh. 

I pull around and am met by the employee at the window. I shove the money in his hand. “Ugh, MITCH, do you have to embarrass me?” 

Peeta laughs, “You know his name too?” 

If it were possible for my face to get any redder it does. 

“No! I read his name badge!” I try to convince him. No luck.

“No you didn't!” He grins and shakes his head.

I scowl and snatch up the bag of tacos, with the extra sauce I like, and even though I didn't ask for it, Mitch adds a free fountain drink and two straws. 

We stretch out on a blanket at the park under a willow tree and down 3 tacos each. 

“I've never known someone who shamelessly love junk food tacos as much as you do.” Peeta states with a grin. 

“Oh you're mistaken, there's definitely shame involved here.” I mumble and crunch into my taco. 

It is so easy for me to talk to Peeta, I find myself very casually telling him things I don't normally talk about. It should concern me but it's surprisingly liberating. I learn plenty about him too. Even though at face value we have very little in common, I like listening to him talk about his passion for painting and his creative process. How easy it was to find his place in cake decorating in the family business.  
“That's the only way I have ever made my mother proud. She's forced a high standard of excellence on my brother's and I. Always quick to criticize, or point out what was wrong. Never thought I would be good enough.” Peeta tells me. 

I feel like I can see the sweet blue eyed little boy he was, just yearning for his mother's approval that never comes. I'm gutted and the lump forming in my throat makes it hard to respond. 

I've never been particularly good with words anyway, so I reach for Peeta’s hand and squeeze. I hope he knows I feel no pity, but I feel his pain. 

He looks surprised, but squeezes back and smiles.

I take a minute to enjoy how his wide palm and callused hand feels in my smaller one. The woman inside me notices just how sexy his rugged and talented hands are. I brush the thoughts away. 

When I drop Peeta off he gives me a kiss on the cheek asks me if he can call me and we can do this again. I think “this” means something resembling a date.

I tell him “Of course.”

As I drive home I come to a startling realization: I didn't think of Rye once the entire time I was with Peeta. 

Now I'm more confused than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

Gale has been so tied up in his time with Madge, I know they're in love and it really is adorable. I'm happy for them but it's definitely encroaching on our best friend time. Things are changing and this isn't how I envisioned my summer. My aversion to change could play a role here. 

After two weeks of Gale being too busy when I'm free, Peeta is now elevated to ‘first to text’ instead of second. 

If I'm honest with myself, it's so nice to have a ‘someone.’ A go-to-ready-to-hang someone and Peeta has filled that void. He's always up for a scenic hike, and isn't embarrassed if he’s struggling to keep up with me. We lock eyes and the intensity of his gaze makes me blush. “What?” I ask him while handing over the water bottle. 

He shrugs, opens, and shuts his mouth, and finally says, “You're such a badass, Katniss.” 

I furrow my brows and shake my head, then playfully shoved Peeta, urging him to continue on our hike. Things have remained innocent and casual with the addition if hand holding. I think it was Peeta who reach for my hand first, it seemed a reflex when our hands brushed. When our hands connected there was a jolt of energy that I know we both felt, based on his surprised expression that followed. 

As we appreciate the gorgeous view, the sun starts to set. As an array of beautiful colors streak across the sky Peeta studies the horizon with appreciation, as if he's taking in a painting, studying and analyzing it. Peeta isn't like anyone I've ever met. 

I'm surprised to find a smile on my face. 

\------------

Gale planned another party on the beach, when we were in high school Gale and I started on the first day of summer break we brought our sleeping bags to the beach and spent the night under the stars. Eventually we invited our friends and who ever we were dating at the time. After Gale graduated we just chose a day warm enough in June. 

The fire crackles on the beach as we huddle around, drying ourselves from another dip in the shore which turned into splashing each other playfully until we were all soaked and laughing hysterically. 

When the music blares from the speaker attached to Madge's phone across the beach as our group of friends encircle the fire. When the song switches from The Weekend to an Ariana Grande song Gale groans as if it pains him, while his girlfriend just laughs. 

Peeta has given me pecks on the cheek on occasion over the weeks we've been hanging out. He plants a sweet to my cheek before whispering “You should pick the playlist next time.” Referring to our mutual love for Indie Folk music, rock, and the occasional 2000s throwback. 

The sincerity of his affection lingers on my cheek, I duck my head in a poor attempt to hide my blushing. Madge smirks at me from across the blaze. Her blue eyes sparkle with amusement, as if she knows something I don't. 

In my experience, a guy will kiss a girl in public to brand her as his own. Peeta has turned that idea on its head. I'm helpless to fights his affection because it's given as a gift, with not ulterior motives or expectation. 

“Can you imagine if Rye’s playlist was blaring?” I banter back, Peeta and burst into laughter.

“Oh, speaking of your brother, I should harass him.” I say, pulling out my phone to send a text to Rye. 

 

Katniss: Hey loser, why aren’t you at the beach with us? You're totally missing out. 

‘On me.’ I want to say. Why isn't Rye hear? Why doesn't he want to hangout with me? 

‘You're one of my best friends’ he said on my birthday. Yet it's summer break and I haven't seen him in weeks with scant texts back and forth as our only communication.

After no reply I decide to send him a picture of all of us we took earlier at the beach. With the words, “You're missing out.” 

Whatever dude. 

Peeta bumps my shoulder, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I know what you're thinking about right now,” he smiles at me.

“What?” I scowl, I doubt it. 

“You're so bummed…” He pauses meeting my eyes with that contagious and somewhat dangerous smile of his. “Because we didn't bring any tacos.” 

At this I laugh, really laugh. A deep cleansing full body uproarious laugh that feels so good. 

“I guess I can settle for second best, you brought the chips, I made sure we had the salsa. We make a good team!” I gesture to our makeshift snack area above Gale's cooler, then offer Peeta a high five which he returns with an earnest satisfying slap. 

“Hey! That picture we took was pretty epic Thresh! Way to go with that idea.” I tell my friend, gesturing to the image on my phone that I sent earlier to Rye. 

While we were all on the earlier shore, Thresh had all of us hold hands and jump in the air as the rando we asked to take our picture counted aloud before capturing the moment. We laughed so hard trying to do it, the best part might be how happy we all look suspended mid-air. Thom, Thresh, Bristol, and Madge we've known since high school, the rest of the hooligans we've adopted as our own since Gale started college. 

All 12 sleeping bags are lined up along the beach, only a few quiet whispers remain as we study the stars on the cool of the night. I look to my right and whisper, “Thank for coming tonight Peeta.” I'm no good with words, I hope he knows how sincere I am. 

“Always.” I can barely hear the words falls from his sleepy lips. 

I should be concerned at the fluttering affect my insides have at his words, but all I can do is smile. 

I opened my eyes to find Peeta's sleeping head so close to mine, he must have moved in the night because we seem to be sharing a pillow and holding hands. I sit up and watch the sunrise over the beach, but for some reason I keep our hands entwined. 

\----------

I can't exactly remember my goal at this point, I think it was to piss off Rye, so that he would admit his feelings for me.

Well, it's worked. Rye Mellark is pissed.

This week Rye has started acting like more than a friend, calling frequently, “just to talk.” I’ll receive funny text messages from Rye off and on through the day. 

Everything has remained upbeat, until today, when Rye asked me to dinner for the first time. I had to tell him I already have plans with Peeta Friday. At first I got a terse response and he ended the call. Some masculine tantrum I assume.

Then some passive aggressive text about spending time with his brother. He's definitely pissed.

When I arrived at my second job, there at the restaurant were a dozen roses waiting for me and a poem sweetly scrolled. I thought it was Peeta's doing at first, but they were from the Rye Mellark. 

He apologized for being a jealous jerk, asking if he can make it up to me. I've actually never been given roses before. At first I didn't know what to do with them and just stood awkwardly holding them. Sae chuckled at my awkwardness and helped me find a vase. 

I was surprised to find that I appreciated the gesture and didn't roll my eyes at the cliche. I took a minute to relish it the fact that I just received roses from my crush, sent to my work. 

I reply to his sweet note with a quick text.

Katniss: Thank you for the flowers! Yeah, I would like to go out next Saturday, Rye. 

Truth be told, my feelings for Rye haven't changed. I find him attractive, he makes me laugh and I like his attention.

My thoughts wander to Peeta. I've created a tangled mess, and my stomach twists in knots. I don't even know where to begin to sort out my feelings here. 

Katniss: hey Peeta when do you get off work Friday? 

Peeta: 7 u?

Katniss: Same! You get the chips, I'll get the sala. ;)

Later that evening I get a little time with my best friend after we both get off work. Gale and I are chowing down our pizza and beer while we watch Guardians of the Galaxy 2. 

I attempt to tell him my dilemma.

“So you're telling me that Rye is finally letting you know that he's into you?” Gale asks me. 

“Yeah.”

“And this is a crisis… because?” My best friend asks with a furrowed brow. 

I huff. 

How do I even express the jumbled thoughts and emotions running through my head?

“It's just…Two Mellarks... Nevermind.” I snear through grit teeth. 

My best friend rolls his eyes at my dramatics, “Look, what's the big deal with hanging out with two guys you like anyway? See which one works best with you. Keep things casual.” 

“I can do casual.” I think?


	4. Chapter 4

After texting back and forth through the week I realize Rye is taking me to a nice restaurant and I'm not prepared at all. 

A quick Google search of flirty summer outfits causes me a mild wave of panic, because they're all cutsie-flowy dresses that I don't own. I scroll and scroll for anything that I would actually wear, finally pausing at a pair of dark skinny jeans paired with a flowy top, strappy heels and a black moto jacket. I could work that? 

Me: Hey Goldilocks? Can I borrow a girly top from you before my date Saturday? 

Madge: Tiger Lily doesn't have anything cute for date night? ;)

Me: Exactly! Ugh. I need your help! 

Madge: No prob, you’re TINY but I'm sure I have something for you. 

Me: OMG! Can we not rehash the “Kat has no boobs” conversation?

Madge: Well honestly, you're looking more endowed these days, girl! I was referring to the freshman 15 that you gained while the rest of the girls I know gained 30-50 and had to work it off. 

Me: Whaaaat? 

Madge: You probably didn't even notice? Hey don't worry about it? I've got things that will fit you. Come over after after work? Gale picked so many strawberries we have to have Sundaes! 

Me: 5? 

Madge: See you then, K!

\--------

It's Friday night and I just got off work, changed out of my work clothes into jeans and t-shirt and collapsed on my bed. My phone goes off. 

It's a text from Peeta: Hey would you be up for a change of plans? 

I smile at his thoughtfulness and the prospect of spending time with him. 

Me: Depends. What do you have in mind? 

Peeta: I heard about this new taco place we should check out. There's live music tonight.

Me: Okay, that sounds really fun actually. 

Peeta: can I pick you up this time? 

I pause and think about it. 

Prim is out. Mom's working. Not a big deal I guess?

Me: Sure, take highway 13 from your place, it's near the meadow and that fenced off wildlife reservation 2012 E Mockingjay Circle, Seam

I check my reflection in the mirror: cropped skinny jeans and a v-neck fitted black t-shirt. I add a little lip gloss and grab my olive green cropped canvas jacket. I pull my hair out of it's braid and attempt a new look before giving up, leaving it down. 

When Peeta picks me up I’m grateful he doesn’t make any comments about my family’s run down shack of a townhome. He just stares speechless for a moment. I almost regret leaving my hair down until he smiles dreamily at me. His blue eyes seemed to shine in a new way. I couldn't stop the blushing in my cheeks. I bite my lip nervously and fiddled with my hair before grabbing my small leather satchel. Peeta took me to a new restaurant on the nicer side of town.

At El Loro, I have the best tacos in my life.The fresh authentic guac was to die for. The chips and salsa were addicting. The atmosphere in general was like a celebration. 

Peeta and I never ran out of things to talk about and seemed to have an unspoken mission to make the other laugh.

The live music started and the energy that charged the room was exhilarating. The band started walking around as they played. Before I realized what was happening, they were at our table, beckoning us to dance on the makeshift dance floor. 

“Uh, no! N-no-no. No! I'll make a fool of myself!” I laugh in proteste.

The handsome, suave man with the guitar, who we learned was named Torres, refused to stop singing to “the girl on fire” until I agree to dance. I look down at my shoes, fringe moccasins. A quick glance at Peeta and I realize something in his eyes make me want to let loose and try it. A smile spread across his face, and I know my face must have looked the same. 

Peeta’s hands grips mine as he lifts me out of my seat without breaking eye contact.

Being honest, we were terrible! 

Well, Peeta never looks terrible, even when he's trying something new. His smiles are contagious when he's enjoying himself. He is smooth and cool even when he's laughing at himself. 

A few dancers who actually know what they are doing demonstrated how to salsa, and offered us a few pointers. With a swivel of my hips I follow the instructions. One woman who moved so fluidly looks at me with a winks and loudly declared “Caderas como una latina!” Then she translated in a quieter voice, “Hips like a Latina.” 

I know I'm blushing as I look down, but I'm having so much fun and it’s actually a nice compliment, I feel like I fit. My olive skin is due to a partly Sioux heritage, and I seem to stand out a little with my ambiguous exotic features, whenever my best friend Gale isn’t around, but I'm included here, almost a family type atmosphere. 

Once Peeta and I joined the dance floor we stayed for hours. 

Somehow I ended up shaking a maraca in each hand next to our new friend Torres, the lead guitar player as he strums away, while Peeta taps on a set of bongos. We laugh and shout out the few lyrics that repeat in the chorus. 

On our ride back to Seam, I convinced Peeta we needed to stop for ice cream.

Without discussion we take our ice cream to the park, our park, specifically our spot under the tree. 

“You've got a little--” Peeta pretends to wipe some ice cream off my face, but purposefully fumbles with his spoon to dab my nose with ice cream. 

My jaw drops in mock horror, “Peeta Mellark, I don't think you want to start this game with me!” I challenge as I slowly move towards him while he grins but puts his hands up.

“Easy there, it was an honest mistake!” He protests, speaking as if trying to sooth a predator. 

I lunge at him and smear some ice cream on his cheek. We struggle for a bit until he pulls me tight with his toned forearm. I jam my finger into the oblique muscles at his waist, tickling him until he squirms and releases me from his grasp. 

I think I escaped him and duck behind a tree while he wipes his face, but somehow, he's quicker than I expected and throws me over his shoulder, like I'm a mere sack of flour, catching my ice cream in his hand. 

I squirm and laugh when he places me back down to our spot. He puts a dab of ice cream on my cheek and when I squeak he licks the spot clean flashing me a devilish grin.  
I try not to think about the way my breath quickens or how I feel a wave of heat run through my body, but the way his blue eyes seems to flash a darker shade, I think he knows the effect he’s having.

We lay back on the grass to study the stars.

“So, we're hiking Monday, right?” He asks cool, but I pick up a hint of concern. 

“Mmm-hm.” I commit casually.

“Friday is this concert in the park I was telling you about.” He reviews, “and I was hoping to take you to Delly's for the 4th. Finnick can get us a boat, so we can watch the fireworks on the lake.” 

“Oh cool. I'm in.” I'm not sure why he's locking down plans for the future now, until it dawns on me that he knows I'm going out with Rye tomorrow night. He's making sure we're still hanging out. My eyes drift to his, but Peeta is focused on the starts, his gaze straight above.

Do I bring it up? 

My words blurt out before I’ve really decided if it's a good idea. “Um, what about Rye?”

“What about Rye?” Peeta echoes even, with different intonation. 

“Listen, one date with Rye doesn't mean he has any claim on you. Has Rye asked you to date him exclusively?” Peeta asks.

I shake my head ‘no.’ I can feel Peeta's eyes studying me, but it's now my turn to stare up at the sky. 

“Then I see no reason for you to cut me loose.” He says so casually, with a shrug.

I just stare. This is a lot to think about. His arm pulls me closer to him, rubbing my arm ever so gently. He kisses my cheek as if I'm something precious.

“It's just some summer fun anyway. Rye can handle it, if that's what you're worried about. What's a little competition anyway? It's good for him. I don't see why you have to make a choice. Not now anyway. ” He winks at me.

I dismiss any thoughts of Rye Mellark, he doesn't belong here at our park, in our spot. 

Peeta and I laugh and talk until it's obscenely late.

But we're young college students and it's a beautiful summer night. 

I reluctantly admit to myself, “And I feel so comfortable so close to him under the stars.” 

\---------

‘Oh god oh god, no no no!’ 

I'm sure my eyes are bugging out of my head as Rye pulls up to the restaurant Saturday night. The finest French dining establishment on this side of the Mississippi. I look to Rye and he's grinning like an idiot, clearly reading my surprise all wrong. I'm extremely underdressed for a public appearance at Le Jonquille, nor do I feel at all comfortable dining here. I mean, we're in college, this is ridiculous! 

“It means the daffodil,” he says and hands me a fresh daffodil, which causes a burning in my throat as I think of the meaning. 

My late father studied forestry and plants; we even have a book that he made of plants he gathered and pressed and cataloged with their names and meanings.

Daffodils mean new beginnings, but it also means unrequited love, egotistical, and deceitful hopes. In fact, a single daffodil is actually considered bad luck. Even though Rye is oblivious to the meaning, it feels like a splash of cold water. 

I close my eyes tightly and take deep breaths to compose myself. 

My stomach churns as I attempt to swallow down the feelings, and flash Rye a weak smile. 

As we enter the restaurant there’s an awkward fumbling of hands. I brush his as he tried to reach for mine, I pulled away just as it occurs to me what he was doing. I brush his again trying to reciprocate, then over think it, so I shove my hand in the pocket of my leather jacket before I realize that I blew off his advances again. 

When I feel his hand settle on my lower back I flinch. I tried to recover, but Rye had already pulled away and given up. 

The hostess greets Rye with familiarity, touches his arm playfully, pulls on his tie asking ‘why haven’t you call?’ in a whiny voice while licking her perfectly painted red lips. 

Rye's face turns a shade of pink as he glances back at me with concern. My expression is blank as I bury my hands deeper into my leather jacket. I walk over to study the french paintings, hoping I can avoid hearing the rest of that conversation. My mind drifts to a certain blue eyed painter as I study it with the new knowledge of art Peeta has explained to me.

After some muffled words are exchanged, I feel an arm slide around my shoulders and pull me into a broad chest. 

“Our table's ready, Katniss.” Rye's deep and slightly gravelly low voice in my ear sends a thrill down my spine. Yet I find myself missing the warmth I'm familiar with in Peeta's equally low but more velvety timbre. 

As we follow the hostesses to our table, she walks with purpose, sashaying her hips and accentuating her curves in her tight black dress and high heels. She turns to us briefly, looks me up and down glaring daggers at me. 

I haven't decided how I feel in this moment. I know what kind of girl I am. I can run circles around her on the soccer field. I can out shoot her at the archery range. I could be half way up a steep hiking trail before she even got one of her heels off. I'm happy about it, comfortable in my skin. But this setting, dressing up on a date with a guy, flirting, knowing what to say and how to dress, she is absolutely a head and shoulders above me in this department. 

I can't compete and I don't have any desire to. 

I decide to just look at the ground and hope I disappear. I can feel my cheeks burning. 

After we're guided to our seats I remove my jacket and hang it over my chair and straighten the flowy blouse I borrowed from Madge. 

Rye’s icy blue eyes widen and take me in with a whistle. 

“Wow, you look… beautiful!” He remarks a little breathless. 

I reply with a shy smile. 

Of course, the scarlet lipped hostess makes a scoffing noise, swiftly removing all confidence that Rye reinstated with his compliment. 

I bite my lip and try to keep my expression cool and unphased, but inside I’m absolutely horrified at how the evening is going. 

Rye quickly rambles off something to the hostess in French before she leaves us in peace. I attempt to read the menu but it's all written in French and for some reason, that's what breaks me. I clutch the menu as tears prick my eyes and cloud my view in humiliation. 

This is Rye. Doesn't he know I would love a good gourmet burger or some hearty lamb stew?

Why would I want to eat somewhere so expensive and have to rely on him to order for me? Does he know me at ALL? I hold my eyes open and take deep breaths behind the menu, hoping to get my emotions in check. 

Our server greets us in French and rattles off what I assume is the specials and what he recommends, then the gentleman looks at me expectantly. I look at Rye and say, “Bread would be good?” He nods and rattles off whatever he needs to in French. 

I'm now thinking that Rye was hoping he would impress me with his French and his ability to get into a restaurant of such caliber. 

My mind races, trying to think of anything to talk about, but everything that comes to mind involves his brother. I really have been spending a lot of time with Peeta.

When the bread arrives we both reach for a slice and after a few bites, its Rye who says exactly what I was thinking. 

“Peeta makes better French bread than this.” He chuckles with a knowing smirk. 

Just before I can comment, the waiter walks up with an expensive bottle of wine. Rye smiles proudly as I try to hold my tongue. “The wine you ordered sir, can I check your ID’s?” 

Finally I've had it. “Rye, did you order a bottle of wine for us?!” I tilt my head, my eyes narrow.

He looks quite smug until he takes in my expression, then his eyes widen comically as his lips mash together and disappear inside his mouth. 

I cross my arms and stare, waiting for him to figure it out. 

Nothing. 

“I'm 19, you know that! You were with me on my birthday!” I finally explode. 

To Rye’s credit, he calmly turns to the waiter, “Can we get that to go? And the check, please?” 

I'm biting my top lip but can't help it any longer. I start laughing, more of a quiet snicker at first that rolls into an all out laugh. I throw my head down and try to stifle my loud gasps and howls into my arm, but once Rye starts laughing with me I can't remain quiet. 

We are uproariously laughing and causing a scene. 

Rye leaves some cash on the table, grasps the expensive bottle of wine and guides me out of the swanky uptown establishment. I secretly hope I never have to enter the place again. 

As we ride awkwardly in Rye's car, it's silent for a full two minutes until I finally let out breath I was holding, “You know where I wish you took me? Clancy’s. It would’ve been perfect.” I purse my lips in annoyance. Clancy’s is a bar this part of town known for gourmet burgers and a beer assortment that hipsters swoon over.

He looks surprised and then smiles. 

“It's like you don't know me at ALL!” I throw my hands up dramatically as Rye starts to laugh, dispelling the awkwardness that remained. 

I order a Juicy Lucy, fries and a lemonade. I could easily get a beer in this place, but after getting ID’d at the French restaurant I just don't want to bring it up. 

For some reason, in this setting, it's easier to be the Rye and Katniss that are old friends who make each other laugh. I elbow him in the ribs and relentlessly shame him for the worst date I've ever been on. 

We swap stories of pranks we've pulled at college. 

“Good thing pink hair is on trend or else Madge would have rung my neck before that charity auction she had to be at with her parents.”

We find ways to make each other laugh all evening. Before he drops me off at home, Rye pulls me in for a hug, kisses my cheek and whispers, “That was the best first date I've ever been on.” 

When he pulls away he's trying to look me in the eyes, but I duck my head. 

Not because I feel shy, because I can't look at him. It was a terrible date! Clancy's afterwards definitely didn't feel like a date nor made-up for his disaster before hand. 

But more troubling, is when he said the word ‘date’ what echoed through my head was that butterfly feeling when I'm out with Peeta, That feels like a date. Hanging out with Peeta just 2 nights ago felt like a date. Tonight, this with Rye. This felt like two bros hanging out. Innocuous.

I still have a crush on Rye, but these feelings are confusing. 

Finally I leave him with, “Well, you still have to make up for the first part being the WORST.”

I turn and leave Rye standing there. 

Before I settle into bed I get a text.

Rye: Challenge accepted!

I stare at the ceiling in the dark, hoping that this whirlwind I've created tones down the emotions stirring inside of me. 

My crush on Rye Mellark used to be exciting. I sigh at the thoughts and unpleasant feelings I'm trying to ignore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tide is turning, it's a natural transition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for @katnissdoesnotfollowback a talented inspring author and friend. Thank you thank you so much to my Beta's @alliswell21 and @ra3lynn3  
> Both skilled writers with captivating stories of their own, too the time to help me with this and it would be a mess without them.  
> Also thank you @akai-echo for this beautiful banner!!

My sister is the most gorgeous Maid of Honor I've ever seen. Her baby blue eyes look especially stunning with her light make up and the pale teal green flowy gown she chose. Her hair is in an intricate braided updo with tiny flowers beautifully placed throughout.

 

In true Prim fashion she has everyone in the room falling in love with her.

 

She takes the microphone to give her speech and the flicker of amusement in her eyes tells me that it's going to be entertaining.

 

Her sweet melodic voice begins, “First I'm going to take the opportunity to say that I was right! Haha! After loads of research during Katniss's predicament, I explained to my sister which birth order would pair best with an oldest child and it indeed worked out that way.” Prim gestures to the two of us, our fingers entwined under the long decorated table where the wedding party is seated.

 

“I might as well bring up the elephant in the room.” Prim continues. “Rye and Peeta are competitive brothers, they wrestled each other in high school, and both sought after my sister's heart. For an entire summer these boys were trying to woo her, they were suspiciously cool about, it seemed they came to some sort of agreement. Or so we thought? Everything seemed fine until strange things kept happening...”

 

Prim’s eyes crickle in amusement as she looks out to the crowd and gives a knowing look to a few who are aware of what she's talking about. Stray laughter follows. I can distinctly pick out Delly’s contagious laughter and that's what pushes me to the point where I can't contain my own smirk, but find myself shaking in silent laughter. Prim’s story goes on.

 

“One day Peeta greeted me at the door to pick up Katniss for a picnic or was it a trip to the beach maybe? As he was talking to me, something about cookies in the bakery I imagine, the man couldn't stand still. He kept fidgeting and squirming.

 

“By the time Katniss came to the door he was fully wiggling and finally scratching all over his pants. The relief on his face was comical.

 

“Then as if a light went on in his mind, Peeta's eyes went wide in realization. He cursed and mumbled something about Rye and itching powder. Then apologized to my sister and hightailed it home. Of I course was cracking up, when I saw Katniss's confused expression. Katniss's phone rang minutes later with all too suspicious timing Rye Mellark was ‘Checking to see if she was available.’

 

“I had to tell her!” Primrose’s eyes twinkle holding her audience captive.

 

“For those who don't know, Mellark's are infamous for their pranks, and of course the brothers were pranking each other, sabotaging the other’s time with Katniss. You wouldn't believe how Peeta got Rye back over the 4th of July festivities…”

 

I already know this one, so my gaze lands on my new husband. He tries to look embarrassed, but a boyish smirk emerges. I think everyone’s minds are immediately transported back to that day...

 

\----------

 

Peeta invited me to the Independence Day party. I've felt a little uncomfortable all day long since there are a lot of people here I don't know.

 

Luckily there have been distractions as well. Rye received the roasting of his life because _someone_ put blue temporary hair dye in his shampoo and he showed up rocking a Marge Simpson. The best part was Rye didn't notice until he got to Delly’s place, and we had a front row seat to the moment he caught his reflection in the mirror.

 

I laughed so hard that my abs will surely burn for days.

 

The plan for day includes eating here at Delly Cartwright's until just before dark. Finnick “I know a guy” Odair found us a boat and the plan for the evening is to head over to Flickerman's Pier and watch the fireworks while afloat over the water.

 

I’ve hung out with Peeta and Rye occasionally for the last couple of weeks, but it's not so intense as “official dates.” We get food, or we hit the beach with our other friends. Peeta has taken me to live music, which I especially love. He has even taken me canoeing in the cool of the early morning when the dew and mist hang low over the water. Rye took me to the top three ice cream places in the city and had me rate which was best. We even came up with humorous but positive yelp reviews and posted them.

 

There are so many things that confused me about the two brothers. For one, I started to get to know Peeta better and found things I realized I never knew about him or perhaps overlooked.

 

Despite everything I knew about Rye, I thought that he was the more popular Mellark, but Peeta's personality is enrapturing. The more places we go, the more people I meet that just adore Peeta Mellark. I also thought that Rye was always the one who invited Peeta to different parties when I had seen him around, or if he was at Gale’s. Even though the brothers are close, as it turns out, Peeta isn't a tag-along at all. In fact it was usually Finnick who invited Peeta to some of our shared activities.

 

In actuality, Finnick Odair is one of Peeta's _best_ friends, and shares the blame in some of Peeta's most infamous pranks, like the senior prank Peeta pulled.

 

And some of the stories Rye has told me about himself where embellished, and the kicker is that Peeta was often involved or had a heavy hand in some things that had initially impressed me most about Rye.

 

It's just strange to find that things I liked about Rye were actually more true about Peeta.

 

I feel like I need a clearer picture of Rye to relieve my head of any confusion.

 

I barely knew Delly, but within the first hour of meeting her, she’s told me no less than six times that she grew up with the Mellark boys. She's babbled on and on about shared childhood memories with Peeta and high school antics she observed first hand. I considered this and decide that I could ask Delly for her opinion on this misguided dating predicament I've put myself in. She might help me with what to do next.

 

She hands me a Mike's Hard, I shake my head, no. She looks puzzled then lifts a Leinenkugal’s Summer Shandy. “Now you're talking! Thank you.”

 

She must find my response funny because she giggles and sips her fruity pink thing.

 

“So you've known the Mellark Boys forever?” I ask. Clearly that was the wrong thing to start out with because she babbles up a storm of how they rode the bus together and played at each others houses… Finally she inquires why I asked and if I need dirt on one of them, over the other.

 

Ah! So she knows I'm sort of seeing both of them? I shut my eyes tightly. With a slow breath I release my nerves, bite the bullet and surge forward.

 

“I mean, I'm considering just giving Rye a shot without Peeta being in the picture.” I confess.

 

I'm just confused. I now have Rye’s attention, which is what I was looking for, right?

 

“And yet you didn't ever compare Rye to Peeta before Rye was pursuing you?” She asks, incredulous, and kind of snarky.

 

I assent and think hard for a moment.

 

“I think that says more about how you feel about Peeta, and what kind of a guy he is.” Delly suggests. I nod in agreement, a little baffled at her insight.

 

“Should I consider any kind of ‘dibs' Rye is owed? I mean he had his eye on me first.” I ask Delly.

 

I mean, I feel a sense of loyalty to an extent.

 

She scoffs, “Really, Katniss? You owe Rye nothing.” She spits out in minor disgust, shaking her head.

 

Oh.

 

I ruminate on these thoughts for a while and find some conflicting ideas I can't make sense of.

 

My eyes land on Rye with an audience full of estrogen. I don't understand why I have this desire to gain his attention? It just frustrates me that he finds a sea of girls to impress, when he supposedly likes me.

 

I walk up to the group, the kind of beer I know Rye likes in hand and immediately wrinkle my nose at what I see. Rye is sensually licking the top of a cupcake and moaning, making all the girls giggle.

 

When his eyes meet mine he actually has the sense to turn red.

 

I'm sure my face looks sour. I hand him the beer and he makes a big show of trying to feed me the cupcake he was licking, mumbling something about his “Best girl.”

 

“What is this, the 50s? Golly gee, I'm his best gal! Gag me!!” I spout out without thinking, mocking voice and fluttering eyelashes.

 

Why can't I be like other girls who flirt with their crush?

 

He teasingly waves it in front of me, and I don't bite. Then he whispers in my ear what he was thinking about doing to me while he licked the cupcake. My jaw drops and he stuffs the cupcake in my mouth. My eyes meet his in a death glare.

 

I can't decide if I should be offended Rye was having those kind of thoughts while trying to impress his gaggle of giggling hyenas, if I should even believe his claim at all? Both options disgust me, and I'm sure my feelings are evident here because Rye looks genuinely scared of me.

 

But then I lick my lips and shrug, it's delicious! So I take it and eat the rest of the cupcake. Rye tries to spout off his knowledge of baking, how it's a secret family recipe (that I already know some of because of Peeta), and Rye implies he made them. But this definitely tastes like a Peeta cupcake.

 

Rye grabs another cupcake and before he can be inappropriate again Peeta comes out of nowhere and shoves it in Rye’s face.

 

I turn to Peeta, his eyes twinkle.

I feel a rush of heat in my cheeks.

 

My eyes drift to Rye and his expression shifts from annoyed to pissed when he takes in the exchange I had with his brother.

 

My eyes land on Peeta again.

 

He knows.

 

He knows we're trying to make Rye jealous. He's so good at this stuff.

 

Before I can utter a word, Delly high fives Peeta and rambles out some nonsensical joke that we're all on the outside of.

 

I still can't tell if I can take this Delly girl seriously or not. She's so bubbly, gushing about every little thing. She whispered dozens of inside jokes to Peeta and scarcely left his side most of the day. As chipper and friendly as Delly is, she sure has a way of making people feel left out.

 

Yet she gave me logical, helpful advice, despite herself.

 

\----------

 

It's beautiful weather. The sun is out, the sound of burgers sizzling on the grill and smell that wafts near us is so delicious you can almost taste the fresh juicy patties. Of course with Peeta manning the grill the food will be superb.

 

He waves me over and motions to the bar stool he placed near the grill. I lift myself to my perch and eye the bits of meat he has on a plate. I can already tell by the golden brown and slightly charred look of the burger bits they're done just right. My mouth waters. Peeta must know what I'm thinking because he bites his lip to keep from laughing.

 

He pops a sample in my mouth, I too eagerly close my mouth and my lips start to close on his fingers. To my embarrassment, my tongue even grazed a digit or two. I ignore how his thumb brushes my bottom lip more deliberately as he feeds me, the rush of heat I feel in response and the way his thighs touch either side of my left knee as he hovers forward. I sigh involuntarily. The delectable burger chunk just melts in my mouth.

 

I moan my delight and give Peeta an enthusiastic thumbs up. Play it cool Everdeen. His amusement at my response draws a smile to my own face as we lock eyes, I get lost in his deep sparkling sapphire eyes for a moment. Windows to the soul someone once told me.

 

“Your approval is hard earned, but so worth it.” Peeta explains, I'm surprised his voice sounds lower and somewhat husky.

 

Peeta leans forward so our foreheads just barely meet. I feel like I'm melting in place, it's confusing because the sun isn't nearly hot enough for this kind of response.

 

Finnick brakes us out of our trance as his hands rest on my shoulders playfully. “So did we get the Everdeen stamp of approval?”

 

“Mmhmm.” Is all I seem to get out, hoping that having a full mouth is a good enough excuse for having no words.

 

The smirk Finnick is sporting makes me cross my legs at the ankles and cover my eyes with my palms. So much for playing it cool. I clench my jaw and will myself to disappear. I don't know what seems to come over me when I'm near Peeta.

 

Finnick cups his hands around his mouth and obnoxiously yells, “Supper’s ready!”

 

I wince at his abrupt announcement, but that's Finnick for you.

 

And just like that, the focus shifts to the food. I'm in the clear as I slip away and find Annie.

 

As I take a seat I try to coach myself on how I should flirt with Rye, but I find myself tongue tied, stumbling over my words or telling strange stories Rye doesn't care about, like the time I entered a target shooting contest with my bow and won a goat my sister Prim really wanted, or at summer camp when I was the unofficial “bug patrol” because I was the only girl who wasn't afraid to kill spiders and other creepy-crawlies. I can’t help to think how Peeta might have found the anecdotes amusing, I can imagine him asking follow up questions as well.

 

I resorted to eating my plate full of food faster and, awkwardly punching Rye too hard in the shoulder and getting my fingers caught in my hair. Not flirty, just awkward.

 

When Peeta is finished with grilling he pulls up a chair and wedges himself at the table between Rye and I. It strangely feels like being rescued.

 

He antagonizes Rye, steals food off his plate when he isn't looking, puts salt in his drink, and calls him out for taking credit for Peeta's cupcakes.

 

Rye chickens out and goes home before we head to the dock to board the boat for the fireworks. Besides Peeta giving him grief and calling him out for things he shouldn't be saying. Rye also couldn't handle the roasting his friends kept giving him for his blue hair, the most notorious names he received were Smurf, and Cookie Monster, among other monikers that afforded a glare from our friend Rye.

 

“Or maybe he had a date?” I briefly wondered to myself. I think of the hostess at the French restaurant, how she toyed with Rye’s tie with such familiarity. I shudder in disgust, but the uncomfortable thought doesn't concern me nearly as much as it should.

 

Once Rye is out of sight, Peeta explains to Finnick how he activated the hair dye and replaced Rye’s shampoo. Cut the breaker on the bathroom lights and activated the smoke alarm while he was baking, filling the apartment with smoke, coaxing Rye outside in a towel donning blue hair dye on his head until the smoke dissipated.

 

Of course he received high praise for his well executed prank.

 

I briefly wondered what's in store for Peeta, remembering Rye’s taunting words, “Paybacks a bitch, Bro.”

 

The fireworks over the boat are breathtaking, it feels like an interactive experience. Peeta laced his fingers through mine while Delly flanked his other arm squealing and laughing with excitement over the spiraling and shattering sparks over head.

 

I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. But she continually clutches Peeta's arm, and burrows in closer to him as the evening drags on. I didn't understand why it made me feel so uncomfortable when she held Peeta's other hand tightly.

 

This evening I fall asleep in Peeta's arms for the very first time. The gentle rocking of the boat and the peace I feel with Peeta, the peace I've always felt with him near me, lulled me to sleep.

 

I woke being carried in his comforting arms as he walks over the dock. The luminous moonlight dances over the water. Peeta's strong arms effortlessly cradle me. I pretend I’m still asleep just so I can enjoy the feeling a little longer. I burrow in his solid chest and listened to the calming beat of his heart. The sigh that escapes my lips came out of nowhere, but people sigh in their sleep, don't they?

 

\--------

 

Madge: K will you go talk to Gale? He's hella mad about something and won't talk to me about it.

 

Katniss: *concerned emoji* ok. Where is that boy?

 

Madge: Wrenching on the breaks of my car. You know, full-rage.

 

Katniss: Classic Gale. He can't fix things with words he fixes something else with his hands. I’ve got this Magey-Padgy!

 

Madge: Okay Katty-Patty! Thanks.

 

Sure enough I find my dark haired best friend at the garage of his second job, cursing and dropping wrenches.

 

I have a feeling this has something to do with this Gala he's supposed to attend with Madge. Her parents have put a lot of emphasis on what an impact it could make for this state.

 

Once he sees me, he nods silently. I just jump in and help him remove the tire to get to the brake pads off Madge’s BMW.

 

After the right one is changed Gale and I are smeared with grease, he finally starts talking.

 

“I have to dress up in a monkey suit at these things, being weighed, measured, and left wanting. I just feel like a fraud, and they'll all find out.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Am I always going to feel like I'm not good enough for her?”

 

Sometimes I forget that this tall, handsome, intelligent man was once the awkward gangly Jr. Higher I met with floppy dark hair who grew too fast for clothes to fit properly and had to duct tape his skater shoes closed through the winter.

 

The kid who was barely scraping by and trying to fit in. Just like I was.

 

Times like these, that nervous brooding young man breaks through Gale’s nearly impenetrable cool, calm, and collected demeanor.

 

“What if you are? What if you never feel like you're worth her love? But she chooses you, and she thinks you're more than you’ll ever see in yourself?”

 

His eyes narrow and his jaw softens as he mulls over my words while he rubs his hands with grease solvent and a shop rag.

 

“Isn't it up to her? Doesn't Madge get to choose who she loves?”

 

My best friend stays silent but continues to work and fuss over the oil change and refilling the coolant in Madge’s car.

 

“What if she finds out I'm not what she wants?” He asks me pointedly.

 

“What if you're everything she has ever wanted? Just the way you are. Don't let your fears get to you, Gale.” My best friend doesn't say anything, he just takes me in his arms and gives me a hug.

 

I feel a stream of wetness on my neck and realize when he pulls away that a tear has rolled down his usually stoic olive toned face.

 

This is why we're best friends. We get each other.

 

On the night of the Gala, I get a message from Madge. The picture of the couple looks like they could easily stroll onto a red carpet.

 

Madge gushed over Gale’s looks, his impenetrable collected demeanor, nearly effortless. She told me about how he rallied for an inner city charity that was more hands on. He gained an impressive amount of attention and donations.

 

They're a perfect match.

 

I can’t wait to see Gale, so I can see the grin on his face because he knows I'll be saying “I told you so!”

 

He’ll pretend to be annoyed but I know he’s glad I'm right!

 

\-------

 

One of the best things about summer breaks is the college pool parties. Naturally the best parties are thrown by the senator's daughter, which just happens to be one of my best girl-friends.

 

Planning with Madge involves following her around and helping with every little thing.

 

I'm generally a guys girl, so I delegated some of the heavier tasks to my guys. Well, Medge’s guy, Gale is bringing the hard liquor. Rye and Peeta have cupcake and snack duty. Finnick and Annie have the pizza and beer covered. Madge has some of her more picky girl friends bringing whatever they prefer to do and like to eat at parties. Probably, gluten-free, lettuce wrapped nonsense.

 

The summer sun over head is hot, the pool is full of bikini clad college bombshells, and broad chests bros in swim trunks. The music is enticing everyone to mingle. The atmosphere is every summer song, sunglasses, and flirting.

 

Some of the more competitive guys have started a diving contest.

 

I get a few comments about my tattoos over my shoulder blade, now clearly exposed in my black halter swim top. 3 tiny mockingbirds finely etched in my olive skin. When Finnick asks, my best friend steps up and without a word we take up our archery stance and the 5 mockingbirds on Gale’s outer bicep seem to fly in line with the one's etched on my shoulder blade.

 

“Yeah, man I convinced her to get um with me on her 18th. We made it through high school and have archery scholarships that got us into college, the freedom for more.”

 

Gale leaves out the part where each bird symbolizing a family member, our deceased fathers included.

 

“Best friend tattoos?” He asks mockingly. I just stick my tounge out in response.

 

“We're like family, you know that! Don't make it weird.” Gale warns with a finger point, his gray eyes threatening, but his mouth turns into a smirk.

 

Finnick backs away with his hands in a defensive position. “Nice tat Kat, you're a badass!”

  


Peeta and I are lost in our own conversation, swaying to the music. He wipes a drop of sweat off his brow. I lean in to whisper that I'll get us some more drinks, but before I say anything I watch Peeta's eyes on my lips as I move closer. His eyes go wider as I lean in, his mouth starts to tilt toward mine. The pools of his blue eyes are deep and inviting. I wish I knew how to make sense of the desire I find there. Just before his lips brush mine I snap out of the trance I was lost in.

 

Well, Shit!

 

I duck my head and lean to his ear, and awkwardly mumble, “Did joo thirsty?” Which makes absolutely no sense!

 

My heart is pounding wildly and I have to make sense of what almost just happened.

 

I haven't kissed either Rye or Peeta but I wonder what kind of signals I'm sending? It's all too jumbled in my head to make sense.

 

Before I can shake my thoughts away, Peeta's kind smile once again puts me at ease. He opens his mouth to say something when Cato, Peeta's big burly wrestling teammate from college, yanks his arm.

 

“Hey Mellark! We need you for this diving contest!” Cato says a little too loudly. He's giving Peeta a challenging look.

 

Not one to give into peer pressure, but always up for fun, Peeta gives me a look with a crooked smile. As if to ask, “What do you think?”

 

I just smile back and shrug.

 

Peeta heads over to the pool. Girls ogle his strong biceps and chiseled chest, and as he climbs the ladder, that round shapely backside of his causes an embarrassing amount of jaws to drop. Peeta seems oblivious to the effect he has on the female population. I didn't realize I've been glaring daggers at all of them, until one of them catches my eye and looks surprised and fearful of me. What is wrong with me?

 

After a few rounds of the cannonball contest, some girls squeal as the spray of the pool “is getting their hair wet!” I roll my eyes, because we're at a pool party, in swimsuits. The implication seems obvious.

 

I've lost interest and make my way back to my home base, the snack tables! First I B-line it to the tacos, which I bought. I nod a silent thanks to Mitch, for helping me bring these, and the extra few he added out of friendship. Once I downed a few tacos, I scarf down a cupcake, scan the perimeter and grab another. Half way through my second cupcake, two large arms wrap around my bare waist just above my shorts below my black and mesh halter style surf top and fling me over his broad muscular shoulder.

 

“Rye! What are you doing?” I laugh as I try to finish my cupcake mid-air.

 

“I had to sneak you away from the snacks to get any time with you,” is his cheeky answer.

 

I huff, but he might be right. He puts me down in the corner, maybe so we have a little privacy?

 

I don't know, but I am thrilled to get his attention exclusively. I bite my lip and take in the look on his face as he rests his palm on the wall just above me.

 

“You look beautiful, Katniss.” Rye whispers in my ear as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I suck in a breath as his lips graze my neck.

 

He starts mumbling some other meaningful things but out the corner of my eye I can see Peeta up on the diving board again.

 

I smile as Rye trails another kiss down my neck. I crane my neck further to see where Peeta is on the diving board, Cato’s commanding voice shouts an insult as he walk up near Peeta.

 

Rye whispers something, I know he's in this moment, but I'm really not. “Shhhh!” I say and cover the side of his face with my hand.

 

Cato shoves Peeta off the side of the diving board and we all hear a ‘thunk' noise reverberate from the pool.

 

“PEETA!!!” I realize it's my own voice that screamed as I yank the nearest certified lifeguard by the arm on my way to the pool.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss nurses Peeta back to health, and some interesting developments occurs. Note the rating change. Heads up, it's a rollercoaster and you're not getting off at the end of this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my Beta's @ra3lynn3 and @alliswell21 who had a heavy hand in helping me with some of the sweet transitioning of this portion  
> @geekymoviemom and answering my medical questions. Thank you so so much, this wouldn't be what it is!  
> These three are brilliant authors.

 

_Cato shoves Peeta off the side of the diving board and we all hear a ‘thunk' noise reverberate from the pool._

 

_“PEETA!!!” I realize it's my own voice that screamed as I yank the nearest certified lifeguard by the arm on my way to the pool._

  


As Peeta regains consciousness he's being resuscitated by Finnick Odair. He makes a joke about wishing it was a prettier girl.

 

Cato is brooding and icing a bloody nose, while my fist is swollen and showing signs of bruising. As Peeta looks over the sight, he puts two and two together and smiles at me.

 

“You know Finnick, so many guys would hate that she threw a punch for me, but she's perfect. She could defend my honor any day of the week.” Then he whispers loudly, as if sharing a secret, but he's much too loud. “Did you know she has silver eyes?” His eyes wide, as if Finnick might not believe him. Then he actually whispers, a few things I can't hear, apparently it's very funny, making Finnick laugh and shake his head.

 

Peeta tries to get up, but he's clearly disoriented. I have an ice pack ready and spend over an hour icing his head cradled in my lap, making sure he stays awake. Checking his pupils.

 

I ask Peeta questions about whatever art terms I can remember. What tertiary colors mean. What's the difference between toning and shading. Anything to keep him from closing his eyes too long.

 

He’s in the middle of describing the perfect sunset, naming hues of orange I've never heard of and murmurs something, I only catch “...it's perfect with you there.”

 

There's a strange fluttering in my chest. I don't like it. It's unnerving.

 

Peeta turns his head to plant a kiss on my upper thigh and mumbles something about having them around his head for another purpose.

 

Yes, he's hit his head very hard.  

 

Heat rises on my cheeks, I roll my eyes. I attempt to remain indifferent on the outside, while my breathing quickens. I get that annoying butterflies in my stomach feeling again and I'm having a hard time containing the wave of heat below the waist of my tattered jean shorts.

 

His head must not be right.

 

I thought I lost Peeta today.

 

At just the thought a lump forms in my throat and my eyes water.

 

My mom's a nurse, that by no means gives me the ability to treat or diagnose a concussion, but I can tell Peeta might have one. Since he _was_ unconscious alarms go off in my mind for Peeta's safety.

 

“Let's get you checked out at the hospital, just in case?” I ask Peeta calmly hoping to reassure him. Though I'm legitimately worried.

 

“Only if we get tacos on the way back?” Peeta asks, as if it were a real question.

 

 _‘Oh dear, is this man perfect?’_ I think to myself.

 

“Deal.”

 

As we leave the party my eyes catch Rye’s. I tilt my head sideways, indicating that I'm taking Peeta to the hospital, if he picks up on my nonverbal communication.

 

Rye nods in understanding, helps lift Peeta to his feet and into my car.

 

Rye knows what's important.

 

\---------

 

They keep Peeta for a few hours of observation.

 

Peeta's dad arrived as his emergency contact. I talked to him for a little bit about what happened. Peeta's dad expressed his concern for being able to watch over Peeta like the doctors want him to. He has to open the bakery, Sundays are shorters days but quite busy in the morning.

 

I convinced Mr. Mellark it's a good idea for Peeta to stay at my house. I thought he might be concerned, having Peeta stay at a girl’s house, and one he doesn't know, overnight, But all I read in the middle aged man's face is relief.

 

The doctors expressed concern that he may have had an undiagnosed concussion or 2 from previous instances. Peeta's dad looked off in the distance for a moment then just shrugged it off to wrestling and “boys will be boys.”

 

For some reason this gives me an uneasy feeling, but I decided to let it go for now. Not my business.

 

“Katniss?” Peeta’s dad calls to me from Peeta's bedside, “He's ready to go, and he's mumbling something about tacos?” His furrowed brows knit in confusion over his crinkled blue eyes.

 

\----------

 

Peeta is stretched out on my bed with several pillows propping up his neck and back. I brought him an ice pack for the specific area on the right side that keeps bothering him. Some light bruising is also blooming around his right eye.

 

I quickly flip through one of mom's medical books, tattered from use, paging through until I land on a page about concussion care. I wince as I remember that my knuckles still hurt from when I decked Cato.

 

I hope I broke his nose! That fool could have killed Peeta.

 

The thought evokes emotions I wasn't ready for. I'm forced to blink a few times as welling tears start to cloud my vision while I try to read the text.

 

"A person can go to sleep following a concussion if he or she is awake and able to hold a conversation. No other symptoms, such as dilated pupils or trouble walking, should be present before sleeping.”

 

I sigh, thinking I should check his pupils again.

 

In his delirium, Peeta is telling stories and they just might be the cutest I've ever heard someone make up.

 

“When I was 5 years old, I thought I fell in love.” He goes on to make up a vividly described music assembly with all the elementary schools in the area as he plays with my braid, saying the girl had two braids instead of one, and when she sang he was immediately a goner. The entire audience fell silent, “Even the birds fell silent, in love with her voice…” Peeta mused.

 

In my mind I conjured up an image of a little blonde girl like Prim when she was 5, with two braids and I smile to myself. Anyone could fall in love with Prim.

 

How sweet an innocent a little 5 year old Peeta would be, convinced he was “in love.”

 

“She even wore the same red plaid dress to Madge’s birthday party. A few years in a row I tried to build up the courage to speak to her, I managed to hand her a cupcake one year. I don't think I ever saw her again after Madge’s 11th birthday...” he trails off muttering some things he did in attempts to gain this little girl’s attention.

 

I sigh as he expresses how he dreamed about her singing to him to sleep at night.  

 

I drift off in a surprisingly dreamless sleep, surrounded by warmth and contentment.

 

\------

 

I wake to birds chirping, a cool breeze on my face, warmth all around me. I'm confused and disoriented for a moment. Stretched out on my bed tucked in a blanket, daylight pours in through the open window. I slept amazingly well. I turn my head and the sight brings a smile to my face. I'm tucked into a strong masculine chest. His peaceful expression is beautiful.

 

I'm tempted to run my hand along the stubble peppering his strong jawline. His tousled blond curls sweep over his forehead. A blissful sigh escapes his lips.

 

I watch him sleep, he's mesmerizing for some reason, there's a fluttering in my chest that scares me.

 

I slip away quietly, I'm sure Peeta would be happy with a surprise breakfast. I rush around the kitchen and remember that I do have the leftover doughnuts and muffins I brought home from Sae’s diner after my shift.

 

They aren't Mellark’s delicious baked goods, but they will do.

 

Suddenly the memory of a dream flashes in my head of my lips crawling along Peeta's neck and jaw. The sigh I felt against my cheek. Dream-Katniss had an unusual amount of boldness. His deep sexy groan in response seemed to rumble under my fingertips. The feel of his lips as I pounced on him leaves me dizzy at just the memory, well dream-memory. His lips were warm and powerful as he took control leaving me feeling breathless, dizzy, and weak. My eyes glaze over as I play it in my head. The feel of his calloused fingertips grazing the skin at my hips and waist just under my shirt. The light rocking as we kissed, the vividness of this dream is really surprising.

 

I take a few breaths to regain my composure, my cheeks are burning and my heart's still pounding. I unconsciously rub a place near my shoulder that dream-Peeta sucked and nipped.

 

I return to my room with tea for Peeta in one hand and fresh coffee for myself. As I approach the doorframe I find Peeta awake, seated with his head in his hands, shoulders slumped. He lifts his head up and looks off in the distance, out the window possibly. The look on his face is almost recounting a memory. A pained look in his eyes, a defeated looking sour expression that could nearly break my heart.

 

I wonder if his head is really bothering him today?

 

I hear Peeta sigh and he shakes his head.

 

I walk further in and hand him his tea, “No sugar, right?”

 

Peeta clears his throat but his voice seems to be gravely, “You remembered?”

 

I just shrug and take a sip of my coffee. We share a smile and I wave him over to follow me to the kitchen.

 

“How’s your head?” I ask.

 

He seems to stutter for a moment, as if he wasn't expecting that question, “Oh, um, uh, it's hurts like a bitch.” He laughs.

 

“I'll grab you some more ice and ibuprofen. I have something for you to eat, but let me know if you feel nauseous, ok?”

 

“Thanks Dr. Everdeen.” He answers me, playfully. The delight in his blue eyes nearly takes my breath away but my attention is quickly drawn to his swollen black eye.

 

“Oh let's get ice on that eye too.” I wince, “Ouch, it's a lot worse today.”

 

\---------

 

After Peeta falls back asleep I pick up the kitchen and noticed his phone buzzing. Finnick’s name popped up on the screen.

 

I contemplate if it would be overstepping to answer. I purse my lips and watch it go to voicemail. When Finnick’s name flashes  again as an incoming call I decided that Finnick is concerned and wants an update. I would be a concerned friend and want an update too. So I dial Finn on my own phone.

 

Not one to beat around the bush or make small talk, as soon as my smooth talking friend answered I was right to the point. “Hey Finnick, you were trying to get ahold of Peeta?”

 

“Yeah. Are you with him now? Is he Okay?”

 

I update Finnick on what the doctors told Mr. Mellark. I probably give Finnick more information then he wanted to know, expressing how often I checked his pupils, that Peeta did puke this morning and still has tell tale signs of dizziness, that this isn't a minor concussion, it may take longer to recover than Peeta's dad was hoping, and that Peeta is currently asleep.

 

Finnick laughs at me.

 

“Oh Kitty, you're so cute when you're playing Doctor. Peeta's in good hands. Can Annie and I come by with Pizza and goodies? I also have clean clothes for your _patient_.” He emphasizes the word patient suggestively, like it could have an alternate meaning, which is lost on me.

 

“Oh Yeah. That would be nice.” I give Finnick my address and after our phone call ends I tidy up our townhome a bit before checking on Peeta again.

 

After Finnick and Annie arrive, I remember why I typically don't like guys, especially guys I'm interested into my house. For one, if my mom's shift ends early she's going to try to bond with Peeta, Finnick and Annie. Placing Peeta into a territory where my mom is going be frequently asking about “that nice blond boy.”

 

I don't like her in my business and my dating life. I won't be taking her dating advice any time soon.

 

I also hate that people can tell how… rough things are for us here at home.

 

Finnick and Annie don't say anything to embarrass me or make me feel as dirt poor as I am. They're here for Peeta. I'm not going to let my insecurities get in the way of that.

 

We exchange a few pleasantries, they hand me a bag of groceries, my eyes widen before I can school my expression. Annie asks sweetly if I need any help with the pizza.

 

Finnick, being his own obnoxious self interjects, “Babe, we’re guests here! Plus, if Dr. Kat is occupied in the kitchen, we have time to make o-- I mean, show you my CPR training in her living room when she's not looking!”

 

I glare at him and toss a potholder at his chest. “You put your own pizza in the oven then!”

 

We all burst into laughter and file into my very narrow kitchen, to work on dinner. The space is cramped with 3 of us, but Finn is a riot. I never once feel self conscious in their presence. In fact, I feel so at ease with these people here on my turf, I let myself relax and let my questions bubble to the surface.

 

If anyone knows Peeta and Rye, that’s Finnick Odair. He might be able to dispel my doubts.

 

“I don't really know how to ask…” I fidget with my fingers and squirm in my seat.

 

“Do you want to know about Peeta?” Finnick smirks.

 

My face grows hot. I puff up my cheeks and purse my lips in a straight line, then slowly blew the breath out through my thinned lips.

 

“Uh. No. I want to understand Rye.”

 

Finnicks face goes blank. He silently studies me for a moment.

 

I decided I should maybe expand on my inquiry.

 

“Okay so Rye and I were actually really good friends... Well I thought we were?”

 

Finnick nods.

 

“And I finally got him to ask me out, but ever since,” I sigh. “It's like he's a different person or something? I'm very confused because this just doesn't seem like the Rye that I thought I knew.”

 

“I went to school with a girl who I referred to as ‘a chameleon’ in my mind. She literally was a different person with everyone she was around. She just would... become like the person or people she was around and no one ever really understood or knew what she was really like, you know?

 

“And I'm not saying that that's what Rye is like but… just... it's just weird to me… that I feel like I don't know the real Rye Mellark.”

 

Finnick nods and kind of gives a half smirk and looks at Annie. She's actually covering her amusement with her hand.

 

“Well that's kind of exactly what it's like Katniss.” His green eyes study my expression and he continues. “It's like a game to Rye. He will like a girl, become everything she always wanted in a guy. She’ll think he's the dream guy and that she's struck gold.”

 

“Now don't get me wrong, I don't condone this, but I also don't think Rye is as smarmy as this seems. He’s looking for attention and validation, and once he's in too deep and she thinks he's something that he isn't, that's when he’ll crush it and bail.” Finnick explains.

 

He gets a pained look in his face and kind of looks off as if he's not really talking to me. “I may or may not have been like this in high school also…”

 

I choose not to respond to his personal testimony of like behavior.

 

Instead, a lightbulb goes off in my head. “Oh, so that's why that Delly chick was really kind of hostile when I brought up Rye? She said I don't owe him anything.” I divulged to Finnick.

 

He nods and looks off, his eyes dart to Annie again as she munches on the chips and salsa.

 

“Yeah, she was a doe eyed 9th grader when Rye made out with her and left her in the dust. She spread the warning to all the girls in her grade about Rye.” Finnick laughs and shakes his head. “Boy was Rye kicking himself when she showed up to school in her 10th grade year looking so… well, _developed_.” Finnick's eyebrows wiggle up and down and Annie covers her mouth trying to hide her smile while back handing him.  

 

An adorably rumpled Peeta walks in to join us, messy curls flopping in all directions. Stubble sprinkled across his strong jaw. His eyes drooping and dazed. He blinks a few times and scratches his stomach casually.

 

Finnick pulls out a kitchen chair and pats it. “The zah is almost ready sleepy head!” Finnick tells his friend in sing-songy voice. He reaches to fluff Peeta's hair, which resembles a baby bird, then thinks better of it as he notices the black and purple swollen eye and lump on the blonde’s forehead that reminds Finnick of Peeta's concussed state.

 

“Do you need more ice?” I ask.

 

Peeta starts to shake his head no, then winces, pulls a grimace and holds his head, his elbows resting on the table. “No.” Peeta's hoarse voice answers.

 

I find my hand rubbing soothing circles on Peeta's back before I even realize what I’m doing. Peeta leans into my side, probably a similar reflex.

 

I hear Annie sigh and I look up to find her watching us with a dreamy look in her eyes.

 

Peeta has puked twice today, and he hasn’t eaten much since last night, so without asking if he’s hungry, I stand to fix him a plate of sliced fruit I know he should tolerate.

 

“How’s Cato?” Asks Peeta around a long yawn, once I’ve sat back down. He stretches his whole body out, just to slump back down against me.

 

“Really?” I ask annoyed. “You’re asking about Cato, after what that fool did to you? You should be pressing charges for assault!” I say indignantly.

 

Peeta just blinks at me. “Why do I wanna press charges? He already got tried, judged and punished by you, and that’s the most badass serving of justice I’ve ever seen!” He smirks and adds, playfully rubbing the uninjured side of his face into my shirt. “The way I see it, I have you to defend me, what do I care if Cato tries to hunt me down?”

 

“Shut up and eat your pears!”

 

I watch Peeta intently to see how the fruit goes down. He seems a bit green, but after a few bites, the fruit stays down. He even smiles at me.

 

Finnick regails us with one of his many fishing misadventures.

 

“...That’s when I decided it would be a great time to take a nap. The sun was so warm and inviting in cool of the early evening. I flopped my favorite hat over my eyes--” Finnick builds the momentum in his story, “It was a brand new Columbia fishing hat. And I know a guy at the sporting good store. Not the knock off one, we're talking REI, with the rock climbing wall. Get THIS, dude gave me the employee discount, so you know that hat was a steal.

 

“When I awoke from my nap, it took me a minute to adjust to my surroundings, and wouldn't you guess? I couldn't find my new hat! Finally my eyes land on a slow mover heading for the shore. I squinted and realized it's a turtle and that smug bastard ran off with my hat. Can't trust turtles, bro.

 

“I chased after that conniving water thief, but it was futile. He dipped under a crash of waves and my beloved hat was never seen again.” Finnick recounded dramatically, while our snickers and chucks increased in volume.

 

He bitterly mutters something about the most stylish thief in the sea.  

 

The oven finally dings, and Annie claps happily. I bring plates and napkins around for everyone, but Peeta wrinkles his nose as soon as Annie places the hot pizza pie on the table. He gives his pitiful puppy dog look, that I secretly adore.

 

“Is it okay if I pass for now?” He asks in a small voice.

 

But it's Finnick who answers by pulling a box of saltines out of his grocery bag. “There you go, bud. Knock yourself out!”

 

I'm still watching Peeta like a hawk, folding the paper napkin he obviously doesn’t need, and refilling his cup with fresh water. Anything to make him more comfortable.

  


\----------

  


Peeta and I are walking along the beach. My hand brushed his and he gets this look in his eyes that nearly takes my breath away. When he reaches for my hand I don't pull away, instead I smile.

 

We continue on, hand in hand as the sun seems to lower.

 

“Before the sun sets on us you need to make a decision, Katniss.”

 

I look at him with confusion and shake my head.

 

He leans in to kiss my cheek and I pull away from him. I smile back at his intense gaze, bright smile, dimples and strong jawline.

 

Soon he’s holding me closer and I get scared, but I don't pull away.

 

He looks at me as if he knows. He nods and with his deep reassuring voice tells me “It's going to be okay.”

 

He holds me in his arms and I feel the pounding in his chest against my own. He points toward the sun and again says, “Before the sun sets on us you need to make a decision.”

 

I pull him down and we sit in the sand, still hand in hand.

 

Finally I sigh.

 

“Can't it just be more simple? What if I just want to crawl into your lap and kiss you until we're breathless?” I ask with a smile.

 

He shakes his head and laughs, but follows my lead anyway, happily welcoming my legs as they straddle his waist and my chest rests up against his. Our lips touch and I relish in the feel of his soft full lips on mine. As he deepens the kiss I dive in further and sink my fingers in his wavy soft hair. When I feel the low rumble of his chest against mine as he moans I find myself rocking against him. All my sense are on high alert. His hands on my waist wonder down. His thumbs play with the waistband of my pants as his hands sinks into my back pockets.

 

We break away to catch our breaths and Peeta says something about kissing until we're breathless with a smirk.

 

I pull him back to myself before he can say anything else.

 

A few more smoldering kisses and sighs and he starts to kiss down my neck.

 

“You know,” I gasp as he kisses my pulse point and sucks there for a moment.

 

I hum in appreciation.

 

I whisper in Peeta's ear a confession so uncharacteristic it surprises me. “Sometimes I'm all alone in my big bed and my breast just feel so lonely.” I say in a sultry voice with a pout.

 

“I know what you need.” He answers playfully but in a husky voice.

 

His hand gently cups one breast only to knead it and then swipes his thumb over the nipple.

 

“The other one's getting cold.” I pout and bat my eyes.

 

Peeta's deep voice cracks as he says, “We can't have that!”

 

And eagerly gives the other one some much craved attention.

 

“More!” I whisper in his ear as I adjust my position in his lap, rubbing his arousal between my legs.

 

Peeta pulls the strings on my back of leather halter swim top, his hand dips where the halter hangs loose and I feel his sexy rough palms on my bare nipples.

 

“Ahhh!” I gasp out.

 

His talented hands work until I'm panting.

 

He stops to point to the sunset and again says, “You have to make your choice soon, Katniss.” No sadness in his voice, just a strong conviction.  

 

Then he turns his face to mine with a devilish grin and whispers “You can't let me go.”

 

I raise my eyebrows in question.

 

He just whispers “You won't admit it yet but you already need me.”

 

I shake my head in protest although I'm sure he's right.

 

“We have some time for you to decide. Are you ever cold or lonely anywhere else?” The mischievous look on his face along with his sparking blue eyes make me puddy in his hands.

 

Instead of answering I draw him closer for more kisses. His hands wander up my thighs and seem to play a game of ‘how far up will Katniss let me go?’ I'm a goner by this point so anywhere he wants to light my fire I'm saying yes.

 

His hands toy with the strand of my cut off denim shorts and finally the short hem. I inadvertently start rocking against is hand as his fingers dive further up. When his fingers finally dip under the lace of my underwear, I feel a wave of heat. I bite my lip in an attempt to stifle the much too loud moan.

 

As he hits just the right spot Peeta mumbles, “Oh fuck you're so wet.”

 

I moan and hum as he lavishes my nipples with affection, while simultaneously working my clit as I grind on his erection in his lap. Just as I'm anticipating the waves of pleasure he whispers “times almost up,” and then it is....

 

… _Madge's ringtone blaring the new Taylor Swift song. "Is it cool that you're in head..."_

 

I wake up dizzy and so confused. I'm not on the beach. I'm at Madge's house, and I am SO keyed up, I decide to finish what dream-Peeta started. I close my eyes and think of his blue eyes, big strong arms and rugged hands and his nimble fingers. Imagining his mouth on my nipple as his hands work and stroke just the right spot. The images of my dream flash in my mind as I sigh and moan. I wonder how hard he could rock my world. How would he respond if I was greedy for more? I sigh.

 

Then bury my face in the pillow and scream.

 

I may feel embarrassment and guilt for pleasuring myself to thoughts of Peeta later, but right now, I’m just enjoying my blissful release.

  


I find Madge in the living room on the phone laughing. When she turns she says, “Babe, I have to go, I'll call you later. Love you too, bye.”

 

“Girl's night last night was one for the books. How you feeling, champ?” Madge asks, handing me a glass of cold water.

 

I gulp it down and groan in reply. My fingers rub my temple with my left hand, hoping to quell my aching head.

 

“Are you up for breakfast?” She gestures to the pancakes, as she blows out a slight chuckle at my agony.  

 

“Yes please.” I answer eagerly.

 

As I sit at the kitchen table and pour syrup on my short stack I've layered with bits of strawberries, at Madge’s insistence.

 

Madge asks if I remember last night. I groan and mumble, “Most of it.”

 

“You haven't drank like that in, well ever! Ask Annie all about it. You went on and on about Peeta and Rye. You have us all wondering what that silver tongue of Peeta's can do and if you’ll ever get to find out and drunkenly tell us!” She waits for my reaction, I choke a little on my food.

 

“For being hung up on two guys, you quite obviously seem to favor one over the other. At least when the truth serum comes out.”

 

“I do not!” I choke out, but truth be told, I need time to mull over her words.

 

The problem is, it's not that simple…

 

I finally have Rye’s attention. I have obtained my goal-- to a point.

 

On the other hand, I can't let go of Peeta.

 

It baffles me how attached I've become.

 

And I DON'T want to admit to myself that I was wrong.

 

I like having Rye as a friend. I selfishly like his attention but I don't want him as a boyfriend.

 

Rye was never a good fit. Peeta's made that painfully obvious.

 

In my mind Rye's migrated in the _Friend Zone._

 

Probably the hottest addition to the friend zone since Gale when I was 16.

 

I have to admit that it's awkward and forced when Rye tries to fabricate romance out of what we have.

 

The real problem here is, if I cut him loose it means more for Peeta and I.

 

…and I'm scared to death.

 

As I check myself in the mirror I notice a dark spot on my shoulder, I pull my shirt away and realize it's more like a bruise. No… a hickey?

 

At first I think about my dream an hour ago, but shake away my implausible thoughts. It takes me a whole minute to realize what that might be.

 

I run to my phone and sure enough, according to Google hickeys can take from 5 days to 2 weeks to fade.

 

When Peeta had the concussion the kisses I dreamed that night were real. That dream the other night was real.

 

It's Peeta. He's always been the real thing.

 

Do I really have a shot at something deeper with Peeta?

 

\---------

  


I was growing fairly confident I could pick Peeta and bite down this fear of a real relationship with someone I could see a future with. The kind of beautiful relationship I had seen in my parents, back when my father was alive and my mother was his world. They were a real-life fairy tale after the happily ever after.

 

After my dad died my mom slipped inside herself and took a long time to return. I was still a child so I didn't understand the kind of love that would make you lose yourself. I loved my daddy too. I lost him. I needed my mom and she wasn't… there, not really.

 

My resentment toward her grew as my trust in her decreased at a steady rate. When I started to have feelings for Gale as I started high school, I soon realized how foolish I would be to love someone deeply. I dismissed the prospect. Gale and I were always better friends anyway.

 

I've dated, in high school others acted like I'm insensitive for being sensible, by keeping dating casual and being practical with my heart.

 

I've always seen it as being responsible.

 

My mom's depression came flooding back after her boyfriend broke up with her this week and I remembered all the reasons why relationships don't work out for me.

 

Serious relationships feel like responsibility and berdon, especially when it probably won't work out.

 

Even if I did know how to love, even if I was able to give that piece of my heart away, the piece that I protect and guard with everything I have-- surely the family baggage I have and responsibilities others my age don't have would have turned them away. _Him_ away.

 

My mom takes shorter shifts at the hospital and more days off than I'm comfortable with, only to arrive home as a dazed hollow statue. Or she stays in her room, in bed all day.

 

When she pulls out the old photos of dad and our once very happy family, Prim and I share a look, _“It's time to revert back to survival mode.”_

 

I call Sae to take any extra shift at the diner she can offer me. Prim calls Hazelle Hawthorne, organizing rides to various functions, and asks to babysit Posey, Hazelle happily accepts. Then Prim quietly and gently explains mom's state to our mom's most supportive friend.

 

After I've caught up on all the housework I found a moment to escape at the beach.

 

“I thought I would find you here.” My best friend’s deep voice breaks me out of my thoughts as I watch the waves crash and recede in a hypnotic dance. The sun has painted everything a unique shade of red-orange.

 

“Peeta's favorite,” I muse to myself.

 

Gale takes a seat next to me in support and respects my need for silence.

 

I watch the sunset paint and stroke various colors into the sky.

 

Finally I speak my thoughts, “Don't you just wish... that we could have lives where we don't have to struggle? We're so young. People our age are a having fun, easy summers. They don't have to worry about having enough for rent for a household or groceries for more than themselves. It makes it really hard to think of our futures being any different.” Gale still sends extra money he makes home while we're away at college, like I do. It's a wonder how we fit in any time with our friends.

 

I trace the birds on my shoulder blade, they symbolize our chance at freedom, a future where we're flying, not just struggling. In college we are learning and developing skills, and a degree for our future. For more. How can I dream for more when I get sucked back into survival mode? I can't drag another down with me either. How can I even dare to dream of love when all I can imagine for the future is more struggles?

 

“Your mom works her hands raw through the winter, just have a little extra for Christmas presents.” I squeeze my arms, pulling my knees tighter to my chest and sigh. “I'm just sick of it Gale!”

 

The weight of the world didn't seem so heavy with Peeta by my side, but I don't want to admit it to myself, or Gale.

 

Peeta and I had our usual hike Monday and traded light banter through text messages but I'm slowly pulling away from him. I don't want to explain my hardships at home or what it means to go into survival mode. I don't want to hear _my own words out loud_ expressing how painful it is to drudge along with the worries, the feeling of abandonment that always floods back when mom has her bad days, weeks… and months.

 

“I wish I knew how to do this. Handle it all.” I tell Gale.

 

But my thoughts continue, I wish I could be in love, vulnerable.

 

I won't fall in love, I can't lose myself in a guy. I can't do it, and furthermore I _can't_ hurt him.

 

I will crush Peeta if I stay, and my own heart, I'm not worth all this. History reminds me something serious is just another berdon on top of everything else I'm juggling, especially when it probably won't work out.

 

It’s best to end this non-serious dating arrangement. This undefined relationship.

 

And for some reason just the thought of it, breaks something inside me.

 

“When my mom fell for my dad, she gave up everything for him. I didn't realize how wealthy her parents were, or how impressive her position was as a head nurse. Mom inherited the house across from Madge's on the end of the street, in a nice neighborhood. They gave that up for dad's job?” I shake my head in anger.

 

Gale grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. “I guess that kind of explains why she gets this way, she had nothing left when he-- was gone.” Gale knows the pain I have from her abandonment, the bitterness I feel when she can't hold it together.

 

“Yup.” I say popping my P.

 

The anger and frustration grows within me again. Why didn't my mother ever act in the best interest of her children as well as her husband? Why was it always about dad. She worshiped him.

 

“I'll never do that.” I say quietly.

 

“What?” Gale asks.

 

“Be so lost in another person.” Something hot and wet trickles down my cheek as the sun is nearly finished setting.

 

I hear the words from my dream whisper to my subconscious _“Before the sun sets on us you need to make a decision, Katniss.”_

 

I blurt out the words to my best friend before I realize they're out of my mouth, “I wish I knew how to love.” In a forlorn empty voice. A voice of longing. I'm surprised it's my own, betraying the indifferent mask I wear.

 

“I think you do, Catnip.” He murmurs, “I think you already know how.”

 

I should just crush it here and now, before it grows and festers, and--

 

Gale breaks through my thoughts abruptly in such a commanding tone it catches me by surprise. “You're not your mother, Catnip. You won't do that, lose yourself. You're far too courageous.” He smirks at me, “Too stubborn.”

I scowl at him, he laughs at me and squeezes my shoulder.

 

“What if you're everything he has ever wanted? Just the way you are. Don't let your fears get to you, Catnip?” His gray eyes bore into me and I know he's slipped his own mask off and I'm seeing the my best friend whose struggled every day of his life, who cares about me. “Besides, you have support. You have people who will help put you back together again if things go awry.”

 

At this he gives me a brotherly pat on the back that somehow makes things a little better, but my mind is still set on letting Peeta go.

 

That’s the humane thing to do anyway.

 

For both of us.

 

I feel tired, the lump in my throat won't go away and I hurt all over.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hello heartache. Everything comes to a head in this chapter, angst ensues. Katniss has made a mess...
> 
> A special thank you to @katnissdoesnotfollowback and @ra3lynn3 who bate'd this chapter. They are amazingly talented, check out their stuff.

 

The opulence of the great ballroom and its grandeur could swallow me whole. I feel like I've stumbled into someone else's fairytale. It's hard to believe this is my own wedding reception.

My brand new mother and father-in-law sway and drift about the room as they dance. He seems more loose and carefree as he's catching her and spinning her out and away, in an effort to loosen her up. I'm honestly relieved she can relax after all the fuss and effort she put into her ideal reception for us.

My mother and sister are laughing together and swaying as if the music will never stop and this perfect day will never end. It's only a matter of time before another handsome man steals my beautiful sister away and attempts to sweep her off her feet.

I can't help but notice the best man keeps gravitating to the same curvaceous blond. He's dancing with her now, as he whispers in her ear she throws back her head in laughter.

I get a better look, and of course it's Delly Cartwright, giggly, voluptuous, blue-eyed. I shouldn't be surprised. Her arm wraps around him posessively as her laughter carries through the dance hall. While our best man’s hands seem to wander a little low for gentlemanly territory as he flashes a playful twinkle in his blue eyes.

My husband catches me by surprise as his hands slide around my waist and I'm enveloped by strong arms. I feel his warm breath tickle my ear and neck. “Don't be jealous.” He teases before peppering my neck with delicious kisses.

“I'm not!” I answer him breathlessly.

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs but continues his assault as I melt into a puddle in his arms.

“No, it's just nice to see him get a happy ending of his own. You know?” I try to explain without shuddering, though my voice has taken on a more husky tone.

His gray suit fits him like a glove over his broad shoulders and chest. Looking like he just walked off a spread in GQ magazine. He’s so sexy. I clutch his tie to keep him close. He's _mine_.

My husband's blue eyes have a wistful glimmer. He smiles that warm smile that makes every girl weak in the knees as he wraps a hand behind my neck. His forehead meets mine as our lips are a hair’s breadth away.

“I'm not really concerned about my brother right now when I can't keep my eyes off my radiant bride.” With a mischievous smirk his eyes sweep over my ivory gown and blatantly linger over my chest. The sweetheart shape leaves just a hint of the swells of my breasts while the lace carries the illusion neckline of the dress higher. His hand playfully sweeps across the ivory lace over my waist and hips.

And his lips meet mine, hot, slow, sensual. I hear some hoots and hollers in the distance, but I'm lost in this man. My husband.

The praise seems to encourage him because I'm pulled closer, kissed until I feel like I'm floating, dizzy and breathless.

I'm desperate for more of him.

He holds my gaze, his blue eyes seem to dance and the wolfish grin on his face tells me he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on me.

He sweeps me off my feet and whisks me away to the center of the dance floor and we tear it up as Mr. & Mrs. Mellark. We relish in our time with family and friends, swaying to the music, dancing into the night.

_Take my hand, take my whole life too_  
_For I can't help falling in love with you_  
Elvis croons away through the speakers as I sigh and relish this moment in my love's arms.

My head rests on gray lapels and a broad, comforting chest. I'm cradled so lovingly, as we gently sway to the wistful love song. I feel such a sense of belonging. Our wedding day was nearly perfect. Down to the Mellark's signature cupcakes and all the extra lavish things Daphne Mellark insisted on for her dear son's wedding. Marrying wasn't something I thought I would ever want, but loving this man is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

My eyes dart to his brother again, he can't seem to wedge himself any closer to Delly. I suspected there was something more there between them all along.

I'm once again reassured that everything is behind us, Gale said not to overthink it earlier today and it was solid advice. The brothers remained close despite everything that happened.

In some ways I'm grateful for Mr. Not-Right’s involvement in our story, though I would prefer to omit some things.

Because so many summers ago...

\---------------

I stare at my phone in disbelief at the text Gale sent because I can't believe he bailed. I'm sprawled on Rye's faded navy futon, battered by three brothers over the years of movie nights like this one, or video game marathons, the inevitable spontaneous wrestling that happens in this family, and probably plenty of action with girls. My nose crinkles at the thought.

Gale, Rye, and I planned a movie night tonight. I was hoping it would take my mind off all the outside stress and smooth things over into the friend zone, the natural order of how things used to be. But last minute Gale bailed with some lame excuse, I'm guessing he's with Madge. Now I'm here at the Mellark’s.

It's just me and Rye.

“This isn't awkward right? It shouldn't be awkward.” I blurt out while I scoop salsa on my chip and continuously fill my mouth with the perfect combination of spicy, salty and crunchy bites.

Rye smirks and shrugs his shoulders. He uncaps our beers with a bottle opener, we clink our glasses together and Rye starts the movie “Hot Fuzz” on his Netflix.

Once the images flash on the home theater screen, tensions seem to dissipate. Rye and I whisper antidotes and friendly musings throughout the movie and have innocently shifted together. Rye slowly tucks me into his side, not so innocently as we stretch out on the futon. I freeze.

It suddenly occurs to me that maybe he hasn't heard anything about Peeta and I. The kisses we shared. The time I took care of him at my house. I feel a little foolish. I thought things changed but maybe they didn't for Peeta?

Peeta would tell Rye if we're more of a thing.

Ugh. This is awkward.

And that _shouldn't_ matter because I'm still deciding if I should actually date Peeta for real... If we even have a shot? I keep changing my mind as my fears drag me away.

This is why I considered Rye in the first place. The way he would look at me like I was the only one in the room made me want to go after him. Rye wants fun and he wouldn't want something serious.

Suddenly, being pulled this close in proximity to such an attractive blond man makes my skin prickle, nerves thrown in high alert. I try my best not to stiffen but I can feel his every movement. His heartbeat. When he swallows. The low rumbling in his chest when he laughs or whispers.

And when he says something to make me laugh, I feel a tingle down my back, my cheeks heat up and start to hurt from smiling. I still have a big ol’ crush on Rye Mellark. After _everything_ , that hasn't changed in a short few months.

I should leave.

He whispers something in my ear again, “I'm really glad we're alone right now.” My face feels hot, my palms feel wet, my stomach is in knots and I feel like a deer caught in headlights.

His cool wet lips land on my neck and I lose my breath. I keep my concentration on the movie as the buddy cop duo pursue a shoplifter in an outlandish chase and not the sensation of Rye's lips crawling down my neck.

I'm trying not to be aroused, but oh god! It feels good to be desired by _my crush_.

I accidentally let out a sigh, before I can catch it. This only encourages him.

He sucks just above my pulse point and a low hum trembles out of me.

But he smells all wrong, like hair gel, beer and too much cologne.

My thoughts wander to another familiar smell, one that makes me feel so safe. _Peeta's_.

I'm aware of how Rye’s hands feel on my back, too rough. Not the gentleness I crave.

As Rye’s lips lean in to meet mine, something I once fantasized about is now making me actually feel sick.

His lips barely brush mine and I feel cold and so empty inside. His lips collide with mine for another kiss.

His hot lips feel demanding and reckless.

I open my eyes to look at him and his eyes are too icy.

His hair is too short, not curly enough, and just a shade too light.

My awareness rights itself. This isn't how this is supposed to be.

My thoughts are suddenly flooded with Peeta. Peeta's eyes. Peeta's kindness. His warm hugs that fully engulf me and sooth all the raging nerves inside me. The way his thick calloused sexy hands feel in my small ones.

They way it could feel to be kissed breathless by Peeta.

The wistful glimmer in Peeta's eyes when he's looking at me.

Rye’s doesn't have that.

This is wrong.

This is all wrong.

I shoot up off the futon. Looking at Rye and I whisper-shout, “I've got to go Rye!”

“Wait. WHAT?!” Rye replies, but I refuse to explain or make any kind of excuse. I grab my phone and keys and dashe out the door.

Instead of immediately going to my car, I sit at the bottom steps of the front patio and do something incredibly unexpected, I burst into tears.

“What kind of person am I?” I ask myself. “All I can think about is Peeta, have I ruined everything with him tonight?” I shake my head in disbelief.

To add insult to injury, the very subject of my grief seems to hear the cries of my heart.

A familiar heavy tread approaches me, then, with tender concern Peeta asks, “Katniss? Are you okay?”

My face remains buried in my hands. I can't look up, I won't. I kissed Rye and I can't be the one to tell Peeta.

I'll break my own heart.

Crush it… like a bug.

“Katniss look at me!” Peeta attempts, lightly squeezing my shoulder.

But shame and guilt win over. I just shake my head and cry harder. What a mess I've made.

He gently rubs my back but I flinch under his tenderness. I don't deserve his kindness. Why did he have to come home from Finnick's to be here for this moment?

Peeta makes a concerned hum noise. I hear the screen door swing open. Peeta's steps seem more urgent.

“What the FUCK RYE?! What did you do to Katniss?”

“I didn't do anything? What is your problem? Are you that jealous baby bro?” Rye taunts his brother, clueless.

“Will you cool it a sec, Rye? This isn't about you and your ego. Katniss is out there crying?” Peeta asks with exasperation.

I hear something knock over and I can't help but turn my head. I can't see a whole lot through the screen door from this angle but from the grunts and banging I hear I think they're wrestling.

“How could you treat her like that, man?” Peeta's labored voice asks.

“You don't even know what you're talking about!” Rye insists, with another bang sound.

“Yeah I think I do!” Peeta retorts in a laboured voice.

“Look I don't know why she's crying. I didn't even know Kat did that, but I didn't do anything to hurt her! She means more to me than any girl ever has!” Rye nearly yells.

“Bullshit! She's had a crush on you for HOW long and you're finally giving her the time of day?” Peeta chokes out, but it's more of a grunt as he wrestles his brother.

“Dude I think I love her.” Rye blurts out.

WOAH. What?!

It's quiet for a moment.

I'm trying not to panic but I'm screaming inside.

“No. You don't.” Peeta's voice is icy cold and serious.

“I was saving her, for when I settle down. When I'm ready to have something real, I wanted it to be her in the end--”

Peeta cuts him off with a thud. He has a powerful bite to his voice that chills to the bone, "If you were truly in love with Katniss, you wouldn't have wore the face off every other girl and rubbed it in her face, trying to make her jealous!” Of course my mind conjures up the various bimbos paraded in front of me. I scowl, Peeta knows exactly how I felt.

“Bro, when she countermoved your move, that was genius. You deserved it!" Peeta growls at him, by the way he's breathing I can tell he's got Rye pinned. He tries to argue but his garbled words are cut off by Peeta's, "If you truly _love_ her you would give her your full attention, because her presence commands it, your body needs her like it needs air!”

“I need air!” Rye gasps.

There's a rustling sound and Peeta continues, “Love her?” He scoffs, “If you _love_ her you can't stop thinking about her. About being the reason her rare smiles surface, and about her favorite foods. You wouldn't look at any other girl the same. Every goddamned thing about her turns you on and makes your heart hammer in your chest. The sexy way she quirks an eyebrow, the way she scowls, the way her hair falls out of her braid by nightfall.”

I inadvertently reach for my disheveled braid and a sad smile spreads across my face.

“The way she blushes at any compliment. The way she is so protective of those she loves. You wouldn't _think_ you love that amazing, rare woman, Bro. You would _know_." Peeta rushes out breathlessly.

There's a pause in the conversation.

I wait in stunned silence. Goosebumps prickle my skin.

“God Peeta! Why do you always think you have to put me in my place? I get it, okay?” There's something not being said here, that I'm missing. I wait for some explanation but instead Rye says, “She doesn't need you to step in and be a hero, so quit with the self-righteous bullshit! You knew she was _my_ girl. Quit moving in on my turf!”

I should not be overhearing this conversation… I don't know what to do with this, yet my feet are cemented in place!

“I just want her to be happy, if she didn't choose me, I just wanted her to be free to make her own choice…”

And that's my cue to leave! Too much. This is all too much.

I don't deserve him. He's going to find out Rye and I kissed very soon. Once again tears stream down my face.

“Well things have definitely gone awry. Abort mission.” I laugh bitterly to myself.

As I drive away I can feel the tension tighten in my body while the Mellark house shrinks in my rearview mirror.

I'm an idiot. I've ruined everything.

\--------

I took every extra shift I could get my hands on. Stopped hanging out, for fear of running into a Mellark without with a buffer.

I have to tell Rye I don't feel… that my feelings have…

My feelings _haven't_ changed.

I just need more. Something real, something deeper... and Rye isn't it.

I can't bump into either Peeta or Rye until I'm prepared, until I know what to say and how to handle it.

Madge and Gale pick up on my aloofness and corner me at my house.

Madge took me aside, she often thinks she can get “more emotional honesty” out of me when Gale isn't around. I feel kind of relieved that she cares enough to be concerned. I have no idea how to navigate boy problems!

“Okay, so the Mellark boys fight over you, now you've gone into hiding? Come on Kat, this isn't like you. You can't waste the rest if your summer break. Talk to me? What happened?” She must have heard something because that tidbit of information is spot on.

“How did you hear about the fight?”

Madges shrugs and says Delly. So Delly knows? I briefly wonder which brother she heard about their wrestle-argument from. Then I shake the thoughts away because it doesn't matter.

I ramble and stammer out strings of words that don't make any sense. Then I take a deep breath and when I try to start over. I huff in frustration.

Madge’s eyes go wide and her eyebrows shoot up with confusion. “Can I get Gale?”

I nod my head in confirmation.

“Hey babe, can you come here? I need your help. You speak Katniss more fluently than I do.” Madge leans out the doorway to her boyfriend. Gale is so familiar with my house, it's like a second home to my best friend.

Gale doesn't even wait for me to speak, he just starts in with what he already knows, “Okay, so you tried to get Rye jealous, and it worked, but you fell for Peeta. What happened after that, Catnip?”

I'm surprised that he can sum it up so concisely and accurately. My expression turns sour at his words, I do my best to explain, “Well... I just kept wanting to spend more time with Peeta. I started blowing off Rye. Peeta just… fit, Gale, he just fit perfectly. I never thought--”

“--It could be that amazing?” Gale finishes wistfully looking at Madge.

He gets it.

Madge smiles back at Gale all doe-eyed, but continues the conversation.

“So, I guess I'm missing something? What happened?” Madge asks.

“I chickened out. I woke up and realized that--” I pause and take a deep breath, “Peeta's everything and I don't deserve him. I can't...”

Madge still looks puzzled while Gale nods in understanding.

“I freaked out and pulled away from him. Then I kissed Rye on Friday night. ”

“You WHAT?!”

“It was all wrong! I wanted Rye for how long? Only to find that something was missing. I ran out to the porch and started crying.” I tell them.

“You cried?!” Madge and Gale exclaimed, almost in unison, but not quite.

I bob my head and continue. “Who finds me? None other than the kindest man on the planet. Peeta sees me in tears, but assumes that Rye did something to hurt me.”

“They fought, wrestled and argued. I'm such an idiot! Do you know what Peeta said?” I ask the rhetorical question to which the couple shake their heads.

“I just want her to be happy,” my voice cracks as tears pool in my eyes and cloud my vision.

I whisper his last words, “If she doesn't choose me, I just want her to be free to make her own choice.”

I try not to cry, but rebellious tears escape.

Madge rubs my back in soothing circles.

“I don't deserve him.” I say.

“What if you never feel like you deserve him? But he chooses you, and he thinks you're more than you’ll ever see in yourself?” Gale smiles as he repeats the words I once said to him when he was having doubts about Madge.

“Do we ever deserve it? True love is given freely without expectation.” Madge explains, “Peeta deserves to find out that you love him back.”

I gasp at the honesty of her words.

Love him? Do I actually love Peeta?

I'm not sure in what way but I seem to on some level.

“Always.” The word echoes in my head in Peeta's voice. For some reason I remember him whispering the words to me in the darkness of the night as my subconscious listened while my fatigue dragged me to sleep.

I reluctantly admit, my voice cracking with emotion, “I think I need to talk to Rye first.”

\-----------

I've missed Peeta so much. Everything seems right with the world here in our park and our companionable silence. I'm mesmerized by his eyes. When they crinkle as he smiles, his long eyelashes, the way his hair flops in the wind. The way his intense gaze locks on my face and studies my eyes like he's memorizing the shape of me.

The feelings I have excite me and also fill me with fear but the stronger emotion here is fear of loss. If I were to ever lose him it would entirely destroy me. I now wonder if I would be left far worse if I never get the chance to love Peeta.

“Hey we should get going.” he says and reaches for my hand. The electric connection I feel when our hands embrace urges me to admit to myself how strongly I feel for him.

As we pull up to the curb, I look up and this is not my house. It's a beautiful colonial house of someone with wealth. I'm puzzled. Peeta smiles and shakes his head, like I'm making a joke.

“I'll meet you inside.” He mumbles in a lost voice and looks away from me, rubbing the back of his neck. I try to meet his eyes but he won't look at me.

Rye is in the house pouring over documents on a granite countertop, wearing a suit and tie looking older than 21. “Hey babe.” Rye greets me and reaches over to clench my hand and place a lazy kiss me on my cheek, his lips feel cold. I look down at my hand in his and I break out in cold sweat. I do a double take and to my horror nothing changes.

I can't tear my eyes away from the giant blindingly clear diamond glittering on my left hand that Rye’s thumb is affectionately (or posessively) stroking.

How did I not notice that before?

I look up to Rye’s icy blue eyes and I don't find the affection and admiration I crave.

My eyes snapback to Peeta, looking at me in a whole different way now.

He doesn't love me.

I lost him a long time ago.

My feet snap into action and I'm chasing Peeta as he walks out of the house and away from me.

I can't get to him.

But I _can't_ lose him.

As I lunge and reach for his arm, I grasp air.

I try again and catch something, but it's not Peeta.

I realize I'm clutching the quilt in my bed and have worked myself into a panic. I'm shaking and drenched in sweat.

I look down to my hands and there's no ring there. My panic dissipates and I sigh in relief.

I have to talk to Rye.

I have to make this right before it's too late.

\--------

My heart pounds with sharp pangs of guilt, I take deep breaths and remind myself to rip it off like a bandaid.

“So here's the thing, Rye.” I clench and uncoil my fingers and finally hold them in my lap to regain some appearance of being collected and sure of myself.

“You don't let girls in, when you date them you try to impress them and become the guy they've always wanted... but it's not real, it's not the real you. That's why you pull away. They think they know you, maybe they even fall for you, but you never let them see the real Rye.”

“But you did. You do Katniss. We were friends first. You know the real me.” He argues. “I think I love you, Katniss.”

His icy blue eyes seem to plead with me. I wait for a surge of warmth, some sort of flip in my stomach but I feel nothing. Static. Silence.

Instead I wince, I squeeze my eyes tight shut and take deep breaths.

_Be honest with him,_ I plead with myself.

“I don't think you love me, Rye. There's so much that you don't know about me. Maybe you love me as your friend, maybe you love the idea of me...”

I shrug my shoulders. Words are Peeta's thing, not mine.

_How do I tell him there's something missing here?_ I grit my teeth.

“Wait, are you breaking up with me?”

I start to answer him but before I can he cuts me off.

“You can't break up with me! We weren't even… I'm not your boyfriend so you _can't_ break up with me! There's nothing to break if we weren't official.” Rye insists.

I just squint my eyes in a penetrating scowl.

“Oh...kay...” I respond slowly. “Well, Rye. I think that we should not hang out with the intentions of dating. If possible, I'd like to go back to being friends?”

He looks shocked. Rye’s face sours, his eyes seem so cold as they squint in a hard glare.

“I just don't… This isn't working.”

Rye shakes his head, mumbles something and curses but all I catch is _Peeta_.

So Rye knows how I feel about Peeta too?

I'm sure they talked more after I drove off but… “Please don't talk to Peeta until I get a chance?” I plead.

Rye’s icy gaze seems to be one of understanding, until he turns on me and bursts out into an angry tirade. With a biting tone, spitting out how I misunderstood everything. I didn't give him a chance first, and apparently I don't know what I'm talking about?

I know I hurt him and I probably deserve this, but all I can think right now is that he's a major dick and he thinks quite highly of himself.

“No one's ever broken up with me before!” Rye shouts.

Well, there's my answer. He's lashing out because his ego is bruised.

I walk away thinking it will be awhile before we call each other friends again.

Xxxxxx

The gentle chime of the bell above Mellark's Bakery door brings to mind the day I ordered my birthday cake months ago. The soft white light poured through the bakery windows as my eyes met Peeta's blue ones while I fiddled with my receipt, flooded with a calm and warmth I grew so familiar with this summer.

Today I’m greeted by the only Mellark brother I'm not familiar with. Peeta and Rye’s oldest brother only takes a few summer shifts when he and his wife and their boys come to visit.

Dane greets me with such kindness and adds in things he knows about me, it feels like we're old friends. These Mellark boys are remarkably personable. I usually feel suspicious around someone this friendly and at ease, but I know enough about him to find a comfortable level of honesty in our conversation.

“How have you been?” He asks so genuinely I find myself with an all too honest answer. “I've actually been really run down lately, and for some reason my throat has been a little itchy.” I rub it unconsciously.

He goes into a whole thing about dropping gluten or dairy, asks me a few seemingly arbitrary questions. Then he suggests I try cutting out dairy first, based on my family history.

“Isn't this a little ironic, based on the fact that you grew up working in a bakery?” I crinkle my nose and purse my lips skeptically.

He laughs and explains that he's studied nutrition and dietary sensitivity is a common problem, backing off just a little can do wonders for common minor ailments.

“So,” Dane fixes me with a devious smile.

Finally, the teasing I was expecting comes. “What's this I hear about you dating both my little bros? You've been playing the field or should I say you've been

I grit my teeth and attempt to skate by the question “Uh, well it's actually a mess right now, but hopefully I get one Mellark to myself soon.”

“Which one are you here for?” He pretends to be uninterested but his eyes remain curious.

“Guess!”

“Peeta?”

“Bingo.”

Just then Peeta walks in alongside a stunning blond with perfectly quaffed golden highlights, lots of makeup, too much contouring, which I suppose is what girls our age do.

She shamelessly flirts with him and my jaw drops.

Suddenly I feel so small.

I probably deserve this. I can't believe I thought using jealousy to my advantage was ever a good idea. I'm sure I'm giving a murderous glare at the girl on Peeta's arm.

He hasn't noticed I'm here yet. I shuffle to the side.

I look over at Dane and he feigns innocence but I know he's watching my jealous expression with amusement.

Peeta approaches the front and names off several pastries, “Here we have the Cinnamon Roll Apple Danish, in just before fall,” Peeta winks. “This is our Chocolate, Berry and Cherry Danish, very popular with the ladies. Not so popular with the ladies,” Peeta gestures to his brother. “Dane-ish Mellark.” His eyes have a boyish twinkle while his older brother rolls his eyes.

Dane motions to handshake Peeta, with his fingers extended but bypasses Peeta's hand and grabs his bicep. Peeta responds in kind and they both squeeze the other's flexed bulging upper arm muscles and squint their eyes in exertion before Dane let's go first with a huff.

The blonde is giggling obnoxiously.

“Are Tracy and the boys in town too?”

“For sure. They were talking about a trip to the zoo with you, and maybe a friend?” Dane’s blue eyes land on me before flitting back to his brother.

“Okay, yeah! I'll set it up. Dinner this week?” Peeta adds.

“Yup.” Dane rolls his eyes. Maybe it's an unpleasant experience. Dane seems to occupy himself with wiping the counter and restocking a few bakery items. His eyes land on me again and he give his head a sight nudge in Peeta's direction, so subtle only I notice it.

I take deep breaths and go over what I plan to say to Peeta in my head.

_Don't give up now. Use that nightmare to drive you forward Everdeen,_ I coach myself.

He's worth it. All the fears I have of love, of losing myself to another person seems to melt away if I imagine my future _without_ Peeta.

I realize that my life has entirely changed from the moment I shyly gave Peeta my number. Something totally out of character, but I realize Peeta has that effect on me. Silently I have to give Rye some credit here too. He inadvertently pushed me to face my fears.

“Can I talk to you for a second Peeta?” I ask Peeta, earnestly. Glaring darts at the blond.

Peeta looks surprised to see me, he approaches me with a blinding smile that warms something inside and makes my insides flutter.

My nerves kick in high gear and I start babbling almost immediately. “I just really, I'm not good at talking about this kind of thing but I can't go another week like this…” My words rush out before I can get them back. I definitely sound desperate.

“I just can't live like this anymore! I mean, every time I have chips, I'm out of salsa, and when I have salsa… Someone forgot the damn chips! I don't even know who would get tacos with me at midnight. I can't even drive by our favorite park without thinking of you... Our spot. I'm sick of hiking alone. Who will keep me going? No one keeps up with me like you do! Don't even get me started on sunsets...” I blurt out, instead of all the wonderful heartfelt, honest things I rehearsed, this atrocity came rushing out of my mouth.

There's even a witness, the blond, makeup-plastered giggler is within earshot.

Wonderful.

I take slow breaths and regain enough courage to look up at Peeta. He's stunned and confused, as anyone would be. Then his head tilts back ever so slightly and a slow smile grows on his face. Peeta bites his lip in an attempt to hold in the laughter his amused eyes are revealing.

But it doesn't work, Peeta starts laughing, a whole body hearty chuckle, head thrown back eyes watering.

I don't know weather to scowl or laugh with him, so I just bite my lip and find something on the far wall to stare at. A painting. Maybe it's one of Peeta's?

Unfortunately, I can't stay collected. Peeta's warm deep laugh is so contagious, that I crack a smile and meet his eyes.

Then he engulfs me in a hug. I freeze for a moment before melting in his warm embrace. His familiar scent reminds me of all of our adventures this summer. The comfort I feel being just near him overwhelms me.

Then he whispers words I wasn't expecting, “Maybe we have a shot at being real friends? No more pretending, no making my brother jealous?”

I just nod, speechless.

But something inside my chest snaps in two.

Why would he want me after I had already kissed his brother?

“Friends.” The word tastes so bitter in my mouth. I flash a tight lipped smile, and if he can tell how forced it is, he doesn't show it.

I rub the place in the middle of my chest that hurts, hoping to soothe the ache there.

“I'll call you. See you again soon?” Peeta’s words dismiss me, but he's pointedly looking for my affirmation. His blue eyes twinkle with sincere interest, like I've extended a great invitation. He looks thrilled.

I bite my lip when a smile spreads on his face. I feel my legs go weak.

I squeak out an answer. “A hike Monday?”

“You got it!” He answers back and his brilliant grin takes over his whole face. He's gorgeous.  
I have to duck my head and look away.

I briefly acknowledge the optimistic curvaceous blonde near Peeta and make a swift and painful exit. I don't want to see him use that silver tongue… on any other girls anyway.

I'm not the really sweet doe-eyed kind of girl golden boys like Peeta want anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to my Beta, the legend, my personal friend KatnissDoesNotFollowBack! Her advice and incites are invaluable. When I was discouraged she nudged me and motivated me. Also shout out to my new friend @heilb for pre-reading this. ;)  
> and again thank you to the talented akai-echo for this beautiful banner!!
> 
> Sorry for the delay, this is the best I could do because life is a roller coaster...

 

 

As I drive home in a figurative fog, the emotions I've been repressing have clouded to the surface, a storm builds inside me. Echoing how I feel in unexpected solidarity, light water droplets pepper my windshield. When I first formulated my plan, I planned to date Peeta, casually, so as not to hurt anyone… and it seems I've hurt everyone, especially myself.

 

Lightning flashes as the song playing on the car radio croons on about a crush, of all things. The sound is vaguely familiar. Though I haven't sung a note since my dad passed years ago I find myself humming along.

 

The lyrics express the exciting hesitant eye contact, the sighing, the blushing, the curiosity and want for more. That's how I felt about Rye. An emotional reaction. A fleeting thrill. We were both interested in the other's attention. What it did to boost the other's ego. It felt good, exciting. Temporary. 

 

The cold reality washes over me. 

 

As the radio shifts to a song with more depth, a raspy voice confesses a deeper love. 

 

The damn inside me breaks. 

 

Tears roll down my cheeks and I'm forced to sort out my feelings. 

 

Peeta and I looked out for each other. Had our own lives, our own interests. We confided in each other, opened up about real things and shared hardships in our past. He paid attention to the things I cared about, and what would fit into my busy life as well as his own. We looked out for each other. There was a healthy give and take. It seemed to come so naturally. We just fit. Whether consciously or unconsciously, I was slowly falling, with each caress, embrace, hand squeeze. In our comfortable silences. We were living life together side by side. A unified front. 

 

I do have some lingering questions that confuse me. How much of it was Peeta merely playing along to help me make Rye jealous? How much of it was real? 

 

I started to hope the things were real for him. The things he said the night he fought with Rye might have meant...but now I don’t know. He could have said those things in defense of a friend. Maybe I heard it all wrong.

 

The beautiful melody and lyrics prompt a memory I’ve tucked deep in my heart for safe keeping, I remember my father's face. 

 

His dark hair hung over his forehead and eyebrows, knitted in concern or concentration, his jaw clenched and eyes squinted. Then my mother seemed to float by, a flutter of silky flowing golden hair and creamy pale skin. She wrapped her arms around my father and murmured sweet reassurances in his ear. His steely gray eyes softened and seemed to sparkle as his whole expression loosened all tension. His shoulders relaxed and his strong arms wrapped around my mother. He held her tightly as if she was giving him strength, re-energizing him. He sighed and swayed with my mother in his embrace to the music. 

 

Then, as if he was actually in the car, a voice over the radio becomes my father's singing voice to my ears. Painting beauty in my mind's eye, a deep rolling vibrato rumbling in my chest, resonating out and swirling through the car back to me. A precious sound I treasure and keep locked away. Conjuring up the memory of the look in his eyes, the unmistakable expression of love on his face when he would sing to mother. 

 

Sweet moments with Peeta Mellark come flooding back. There's a big difference between a crush and the way that Peeta has deeply rooted himself within me. I gasp when I finally recognize the sound I barely recognize myself. It's my own voice echoing back to me. 

 

I hate to cry, but for some reason I don’t fight it. I let the tears fall and as if I willed it to, the light tapping of the rain on the car increases and pours down. Lighting flashes again, the thunder roars, and rumbles deep in my chest, drowning out my sobbing. 

 

It's almost cathartic, the earth and I are in agreement. Crying out together, alone. 

 

_ I revved the engine, water splashing, lightning flashing. A hazy watercolor scene of blues, grays and flickers of blinding bright lightning.  _

 

_ I make a split second decision and u-turn, gunning my car back to the bakery. Back to Peeta.  _

 

_ I have to tell him. _

 

_ I screech to a halt, bolt out of car and feel the water soak my clothes, but somehow I don’t feel cold. I feel red hot. I sprint through the metallic and glass bakery doors. I’m flooded with hope at the sight of Peeta’s smiling face. I speak the words in my heart. The muted and muddled colors seem to pale and gray around me. His blue eyes look pained as his brows raise and lets me down gently. He was helping me make Rye jealous.  _

 

_ He only ever saw me as a friend.  _

 

_ Nothing more. _

 

I turn over and gasp for air, then bury my face in my pillow and scream. I’ve had this dream a few times now. It seems to start out with true events, driving in the rain through tears as the radio plays. 

 

I never turned around that day, but I dream of the ‘what if.’ What I find through the bakery door changes with each dream. I find Peeta kissing the blond he was with, I find him angry with me, and one instance that I cherish, he runs out before I reach the doors and kisses  _ me _ in the rain. 

 

It's Monday morning, or is it afternoon? I stand, rub my eyes and study the clock. I would normally be late for my second job by now. 

 

As if life would ever relent in the rollercoaster that this summer has been, last week my fatigue and an itchy throat came at me full force. My mom urged me to get checked out, and sure enough, the blood test came back positive: mononucleosis.

 

I was forced to quit my second job because of exhaustion. The fall semester is approaching, so I convinced Sae to keep me on the schedule at the diner, even if all I can do is four hours shifts, and then rush home to collapse into bed. She instructed me to wash my hands every chance I can and keep my mouth shut as much as possible. “I'm sure that will be difficult, I’m known to be so warm and talkative, Sae.” I rolled my eyes and then shrieked as Sae snapped her towel at me for my sass. 

 

Adding insult to injury, Gale's various texts informed me that Rye was also bedridden with mono. Another reminder of the kisses we shared. I collapse in a heap on my bed and sigh into my pillow.

 

My days and nights are so mixed up. I've barely left the bed on days that I'm not scheduled to work. I'm fatigued all the time and pathetically weak. I  _ hate _ being weak.

 

My eyelids grow heavy. In a sleepy daze, I distantly hear the rattling of the loose front door knob. Prim cheerfully greets someone at the door and eventually two muffled voices echo from the kitchen. The deep timbre I hear almost sounds like Peeta's, but that can't be right. “I love his warm laugh,” I mumble to my empty room as I drift back to unconsciousness.

 

As I feel a blanket being tugged over my body and a kiss planted on my cheek with a brush of stubble, I smell baked bread and a manly scent that bring me warm feelings. I grip the soft cotton fabric tightly and beg for the feeling, the sensation of home to stay. I feel moisture escape one of my eyes. 

 

I hear a raspy whispered reply and I'm engulfed in a haze of warmth, sweet aromas and a sense of belonging.

 

I drift off in a blissful sleep thinking of deep blue eyes and orange sunsets. 

 

\--

 

I wake and it seems to be the middle of the day. I look next to me and muse, “I love dreams when I find myself wrapped in Peeta's arms.” 

 

I gently reach for his hair and sink my fingers into the soft blond waves. I remember noticing these ashy blond strands in a couple of college courses we shared, and I couldn't help noticing the way his biceps protruded when he would stretch. I kept thinking he was out of my league, and I was right. I gently scratch at his scalp and study his profile through weary eyes. 

 

“I do too.” He sighs, slowly opens his eyes, he tightens his hold on me, and snuggles a little closer into my chest. 

 

My breaths becomes out heavier, my heart beats a little faster. I relish in the feeling of Peeta's body against mine. 

 

“We need to eat. I'll make dinner soon.” I mumble.

 

“Not too soon alright?” His voice has a husky sleepy quality. His kind eyes meet mine and plead with sincerity, “Just let me take care of you for awhile.” I nod with a small smile. 

 

This is such a nice dream. I feel so warm inside. Cocooned safely, wrapped in hope and light. 

 

_ “ _ I'll wake up any minute and he’ll be gone. He won't be mine. I’ll wake up alone and cold _ ,” _ I think. The agony and longing in my heart causes me to wrap tighter around him. 

 

“I'm so tired, Peeta.” I trail kisses across his jaw and whisper secrets in his ear. Words of longing. I confess that I think of him all the time and keep dreaming about him. I even blurt out that I was thinking about him when Rye kissed me, wishing it were Peeta instead. 

 

“Every love song on the radio is about you.” I hum a tune, and sing the melody softly. He looks at me with surprise, happiness and opens his mouth to say something but closes it, looking curious, but almost afraid to say anything. Peeta sighs and holds me tighter. 

 

I whisper, “I know I don't deserve you.” A tear slips down my cheek. All words I would never be brave enough to speak face to face to a living breathing non-dream Peeta. More tears seem to prick my eyes as I bury my face into his neck and inhale his scent, sweet bread and dill from baked goods. 

 

“I'm sorry I ruined it Peeta, I'm sorry for everything.” I admit pathetically, and I drift back to sleep. 

 

\---------------

 

I turn over and open one eye. I'm alone, as expected. I wrap a blanket around myself to follow the banging pots and chopping noises in the kitchen. Prim’s happy chatter causes me to search the clock, 5pm. I squint. Does mom have a short shift today? 

 

Two blond heads are bent down chopping vegetables and chatting in our tiny kitchen. 

 

I do a double take because the second head is taller, and much broader than my mother.

 

I think I know why Peeta's here: I'm in trouble!!

 

I slap a hand over my forehead, “It's Monday isn't? I'm sorry Peeta! I didn't mean to bail on our hiking plans.” I grit my teeth and cover my eyes. Of course I'm already ruining our fragile newly established friendship. 

 

Prim laughs, “Katniss that was hours and hours ago. I told him how exhausted you've been and,” she smiles at me with mischief in her eyes,  “how much nicer you are lately. You don't scowl as much! You're just sweet and pitifully tired.” 

 

If I had more energy I would say something sarcastic, or at least make a face. Instead I just slump in a chair at the kitchen table wrapped in my blanket. 

 

Prim smiles at me and tells me Peeta had her practice driving in an empty parking lot, he taught her how to parallel park. She's so excited to get her licence soon. She casually mumbles something about groceries. 

 

“That's nice.” I remark as my head lobs forward. I give up, holding my head up is far too much work. I rest it in the crook of my arm on the table. Stifled laughter follows. 

 

The laughing might be about me but I don't have the energy to care. 

 

“Do you need anything for your throat?” Prim asks me, I open one eye to look at my amused sister with sweet baby blue eyes. “We picked up lozenges for you.” 

 

I bob my head and close my eyes, just for a moment...

 

\---------

 

I turn and find myself wrapped in steady arms. I burrow in and inhale the calming scent. 

 

I’m gently placed on my bed and my arms wrap around Peeta, I look up at him with blurry eyes. Things I want to ask him, things that I want to say linger heavy in my chest.

 

_ Why are you still here? Why are you taking care of me? _

 

And of course the guilt.

 

_ I’m sorry. _

 

His blue eyes twinkle as he looks at me, a crooked smile on his face.

 

_ I’m sorry I kissed Rye.  _

 

He motions to pull away and I shake my head and cling to him. “Just-- Will you talk to me?” I ask in a small voice. I shift and pull him to me, he groans but relents and shifts beside me.

 

We lay beside each other in silence, all my thoughts bubble and boil to the surface until I just blurt it out all at once “I didn’t do that on purpose, that wasn’t my plan to, er--” I sigh and try again, “I kissed Rye and it was a mistake. I didn’t… It didn’t…” I lower my head and hold my face in my hands with a discouraged sigh. I feel Peeta’s comforting hand lightly rub my back in circles. 

 

“Katniss, it worked. Rye was jealous and he stopped stringing you along and admitted he liked you. He stepped it up because you reacted tactically, you faked left and gained the edge and you had him in a half Nelson-- exposing but not pinning. Most girls would go in for the take down, once they have him, they pin him…”

 

I shake my head and blink a few times. “What?”

 

Peeta sighs, shakes his head, scratches under his jaw and tries to explain again. “I already talked to Rye, I know you don’t want to be with him. You got close enough to know that he isn’t right for you. Thanks for putting my brother in his place. I think he needed that lesson,” he smiles sadly, “and I got to know you.” Peeta squeezes my hand and lets it fall. 

 

“You say things when you’re tired. I don’t always know what’s real and what isn’t, but I’ll find out,” he whispers and I stare at a spot on the wall as my mind races, trying to imagine what that means. Did he hear me talk about my dad? Did I talk about Peeta in my dream about him?

 

“Don’t worry about it now, okay?” he says. I nod and stretch out, so that we're both lying in my bed facing the ceiling, and Peeta pipes up, “So tell me the story of how you won Lady the goat for Prim?” 

 

His blue eyes are intent to listen, as I start in with how excited Prim was to see the goat at the fair. Peeta takes my hand in his and playfully draws shapes on my palm that make me... Well, warm, relaxed, and nervous I guess? Because it's hard not to concentrate on the gentle caresses across my palm.

 

“...and I looked at the target and thought, ‘well that can't be too hard.’ Sure enough, Gale would have scoffed at my so-called-competition. I basically had none. I found a pink ribbon at another booth for the goat to wear before I showed my sister. The best part was the look on Prim’s face.” Peeta’s blue gaze meets mine and my heart skips a beat. I bite my lip and attempt to divert the conversation. 

 

“I knew that goat could be a gold mine, you can make a killing with goat milk at the farmers market. We've done pretty well.” 

 

“Right, and it had nothing to do with how much you love your sister and her happiness?” Peeta asks in a teasing tone, his eyes gleam. 

 

His fingers continue to trace each of mine and with gentle strokes in soft slow movements. I'm nearly taken adrift, lost in the sensation. I find my eyelids growing heavy, gently lulled to sleep. The kisses on my cheek slightly tickle. 

 

I barely breathe out the word “Stay.” A pathetically vulnerable plea, but I just want him with me. I feel like everything is going to be alright with him near. 

 

His sexy breathy voice does things to my insides that make me squirm and breathe heavier, “Always.” 

 

His warm plush lips land on my cheeks. I feel his lips reach below my ear, then linger on my neck, a hum trembles deep in my throat. “That's not a friend thing to do.” I mumble, though I can't fight the tug of a smile I feel on my cheeks.

 

“Huh?” he asks, all too innocently and kisses my neck again. 

 

“In the bakery, you said we were _ just friends _ .” I murmur drowsily.

 

“Friends, for now.” Peeta whispers just before I'm taken under the heavy nothingness that is a sound deep sleep, wrapped in safety and warmth. 

 

\--------

 

“I just don't know why Peeta would want me to go to the zoo with his sister-in-law and nephews Saturday.”

 

Prim looks at me like I'm an idiot and throws a kernel of popcorn at me. I wince, turn my head and laugh. 

 

“Why would he come by almost all week, knowing you would be a walking zombie, just to be with you?” she asks.

 

“I don't know, maybe he feels like he owes me because I helped him when he had a concussion?” I answer, frustrated.

 

“Katniss, you're oblivious sometimes, but not this bad. What's your real deal here?” 

 

“Don't know, I'm scared? This is nothing like the way I felt about Rye, or any other guy for that matter. I think he's seeing a beautiful blond, and Rye did tell me Peeta had a silver tongue.” I huff, I’m getting frustrated and exhausting myself by over thinking.

 

“Did you ask him if he was seeing someone else?” She asks, her eyes twinkle in a way that tell me she finds my frustration funny. 

 

I sigh and shake my head. 

 

“And he's an amazing guy, I'm selfish, impulsive, brash…” I trail off and don't admit my fears about it not being real, he’s so kind to everyone. That doesn’t mean he feels the same. 

 

We gather the popcorn bowls and set them on the coffee table, and then pile pillows in spots where people might want to lounge on the floor for our movie, because we only have one couch and a chair in our small living room. 

 

“And what if those are things he wants? You're fierce, assertive, protective of those you love, and you jump at the chance to do what is right. Plus, you're beautiful, his eyes follow you when you're not looking.” 

 

I start shaking my head because Peeta doesn't feel that way, and I'm plain looking. But those kisses on my neck and his words, “For now…”

 

Prim looks at me seriously, “He's so in tune with you, Katniss. He knew just what you needed when he planned this movie night!” 

 

The bell rings and at the door I'm met with Finnick, Annie, Gale, Madge, and Peeta's smiling faces. 

 

“We brought Pizzas!” Finnick announces, holding the hot boxes above his head as if dramatically bestowing a gift. Annie rolls her eyes and steps in to hug me and place the boxes on the counter. 

 

Peeta has a way of making everyone feel comfortable in a group. The way his eyes crinkle in a genuine smile and how humor and hidden genuine compliments just roll off his tongue he makes everyone feel appreciated and keeps the conversation flowing without dominating it.  

 

I made it halfway way through the movie before my eyelids felt too heavy. My head started to nod, as I fought to keep eyes open. 

Peeta opened his arms I started to slump towards him and snuggled into his warm soft sweatshirt. Enjoying his comforting scent and the safe feeling of his arms wrapped around me as my eyes slid shut.


End file.
